The gibbet's dust and dew
Soot on my hand, red lips of you
A shift like the linen of nuns
In my arms you're still warm
The shadows still kiss your pristine form
Thibauld, Big Marie
Jacqueline, and you with me
Up to the spires we'll go
With you in my embrace
Leaping off into the dawn sky
On the wings of angels we'll fly
Rats scurry over the stone
I shiver here, far from my home
Cradling you against me,
I hear nothing
But on the other side
When we reach the light
I'll hear you sing
Moon above, sweet and sublime
I'll always be yours because you are mine
Rising along with the smoke
We will twine, two as one
Touching the morning's cold breath
Our dust will mingle in death














Comments
--
My Id and Superego take the forms of Megatron and Optimus Prime.
--
If holidays were twelve months long
And life were games and fun
And all the skies
Were filled with PSI's
...Would thinking still get done?
=FeatureShare
--
My Id and Superego take the forms of Megatron and Optimus Prime.
--
If holidays were twelve months long
And life were games and fun
And all the skies
Were filled with PSI's
...Would thinking still get done?
=FeatureShare
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