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Fugitive, fugitive, fugitiveYou must not be fugitiveYou must be activeLove your homeMake it as a groomAdorn with every pomponTo show himself handsomeWear and pretty trimAnd be always in the placeTo lead all nationsImitate its way, obey its sayFear
My seed became my fruit now my branch has been cut away the first truma is always the cutting away. A stranger was allowed into our garden, into our world bringing the mist of heart ache and pain tears.
Dust cakes every wrinkle, Sticks to pitch-spots left By careless fingers roaming Over bark and wood. It blackens nails and toes, Clinging desperate to every cell, Imbuing skin with dirt-scent
The years passed so swiftly, And swiftly so too did I fall in love, My only life’s desire for you to embrace me,
Sadness floats like dust through the air. I can feel it on my skin. And sadness like dust can be seen. You can see it in contrast to the light. If we had no light, We would have no beams of dust.
She dreams of the ocean late at night and longs for the wild salty air. We all know the beauty of waves at twilight; But she wants sails bathed in starlight, Winds raking their fingers through her hair,
A grain of dust falls, With no purpose but to fall. What am I to thee?
I am greed, want.She is need, lack. I am anger and frustration.She is hope, tenacity. She is yellowamidst the grey that I'm become. But I am success, money.And she is poverty, dust.
There are places that can never be trasversed There are ideas that can never be spoken There are emotions that can never be expressed directly. But every moment is a passing,
Fleetingly she flies Leaving us in her wake She hears nothing of our cries and pleads to brake For continue she must and turn us all back into dust Yet she bears no blame for Time is her name
Notes from plants- it’s clear now. Soon, few will know of the Earth as it once was- bewitching.
You were the ray of sun that shone through my window with the early light of dawn and I merely the speck of dust drifting by caught in your luminescence Illuminated by your glow, feebly dancing to catch your attention
This old house is alone Dark and damp Where there used to be sunshine Now is gloom There are a lot of rooms Plenty of places to hide But you hear nor see any children Just the quiet
The dark The room The candle, I held it So I looked I listened I stood, in awe
I sit and I stare intense sunlight fires through the slits of my squinted lids Like blinds I shutter out the most of it, and trickling down are little specks of dust Closer I look
Dejection, No affection. Depression, No expression. Happiness? No. Not anymore. No more blessedness. No more galore. Why do I still love. Why do I still trust.
Once upon a time All angels on earth could fly They all had wings All expect one This angel here was me All the time they flew And they teased me! Laughed continuously at me
I think I remember when she turned the safety off, And looking back the scratching in my throat was more than a cough. I think I remember the last verse the swan gave, I think he asked if her heart has a grave.
Old days radiate my memory Swelling everything sensory I try to escape this nighlty bedtime reel I can't feel that love in me anymore I can only hear the slamming doors
The aged path Sits before you Slowly turning to dust After millenniums of use You stare ahead blankly Thinking of nothing Your eyes glaze over As the sun shines brightly over the tree tops
My love departs by a barren road, Her silhouette, an ephemeral vision, Departing from her so-called "prison," Each step rips apart my soul, And fills the air with dusky dusk. Everything that stands before me,