|Black Rose & Rose.
Losing her soul to the music, hair wildly out of place.
Laughing in a drunken haze.
Giggling when he whispered something, something, into her naive ears.
Sipping the drink of filth greedily, gasping for air, clutching only when the shiny blade pierce.
A voice given to her silent fears.
--- --- ---
And another poem.
But beware, it's higly nonsensical :) :
It's cold out
And my breath fogs the mirror up
All I want is to sleep in
With my favourite pillow made of down.
I don't live on coffee
So why does the anti-caffeine king in you fight me like a dog
All I did was to make some tea
Not for you, but the eccentric orange ball called Cat.
© Copyright 2006 Hana L.A. Saw (UN: hanashu at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
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