 LamentFleeting charm caught up that smile;caught my freedom for awhile. Second-hand and deep as skin, around her love I died again. Tell me stories, paint my sky, The truth is that I live a lie. Sorrow ceases on the plane of darkness; sufferance owns the reins of instinct. Nothing more to gain from passing fancy, on this plane. Cut me off from seraphim! Let me die; or live within the confines of mortality, if happiness will yet have me. But here, among the selfish pain of living, and of life mundane, I cannot bear to ascertain the breadth of immortality. Lifeless corpse among the damned, again I saught her dying hand for one last, fleeting smile to grace my pain-filled glance; and yet embrace a sense of mortal ecstacy.. that from that moment, fled from me. + Back to Menu |