| Sugar and spice is not always so nice
Posted: 11/5/2008 11:13:18 PM | My love for you,
is your love for me.
I can understand now,
why shakespeare could not comapare you to summers day.
You were a creature of,
winters coldest nights.
A cold that chills my bones,
and turns my blood to ice.
Roses blighted,
by winter winter with out spring.
A secret garden,
for my secret love.
Sorround my emotional cemetary,
In my mental Void.
Where to graves lie,
if i were not coward enough to do to I,
what you did to me.
Why do you my heart dwelleth in winter,
where white as snow is pure.
For me winter is dark,
both sooner and later.
Those angels of snow,
Are really but Lucifers fallen.
As I walk past your grave,
Where branches are chill and ponds are frozen.
I leave my last rose walk away,
Its melting I can feel the warmth. | |
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