Post by Insomnia on Sept 23, 2004 8:52:30 GMT -5
Our existance is unnatural
Like blood on snow
And as we walk on the white
The blooms weep and bow their heads in despair, while
the skin in which we encase ourselves
Erupts in a massof miniscule mountains as
the air moves around us
And the tresses on the backs of our necks stand tall like reeds in the wind...
How the oaks look down on us
Like the crucifix in the dust
with the stink and sound of a life once had...
A life that gave us leeway from the ominous ripples of humanity in the dark water in which we tread.
One that gave us solace from the slow figures that levitate around us.
The marriage of life and death in one such sacred place
leaves an ambience that lingers like a fog forming false tears that settle on our cheeks;
Without which our existance would be
Tainted
Unnatural, like blood-red diamonds scattered on the white...
And we walk on....
Like blood on snow
And as we walk on the white
The blooms weep and bow their heads in despair, while
the skin in which we encase ourselves
Erupts in a massof miniscule mountains as
the air moves around us
And the tresses on the backs of our necks stand tall like reeds in the wind...
How the oaks look down on us
Like the crucifix in the dust
with the stink and sound of a life once had...
A life that gave us leeway from the ominous ripples of humanity in the dark water in which we tread.
One that gave us solace from the slow figures that levitate around us.
The marriage of life and death in one such sacred place
leaves an ambience that lingers like a fog forming false tears that settle on our cheeks;
Without which our existance would be
Tainted
Unnatural, like blood-red diamonds scattered on the white...
And we walk on....
