Scottish Highlands,CoffeeCrush,Musical Dreams

Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Precious Dreams
There were a few times,
When I felt everything could have been mine,
Only if I had tried,
And made an effort,
To take a few steps forward,
And not five steps backward,
Like I had always done,
Left with nothing but none.

You wished things were better,
And everything was done by letter,
But you were forced to say something,
Which was better unsaid in a way,
Cause then comes the dreamy state,
When everything is insane,
And you wished you were there,
Where you can never be,
Cause circumstances changed things,
Left with nothing but hints,
Hints of your special love,
In a mix of sickness and your absence,
That has left me in a death until your next presence,
Insanity will grip me until then,
And a lone feeling in heart,
That'll kill me for long,
Too long to last till next monday,
Realize, you're killing me every day.
Maybe I think of you too much,
Maybe I feel for you too much,
Maybe your there in me always a bit too much,
Maybe I love you a bit too much.

posted by bereaved vendetta @ 7:06 AM   1 comments
Saturday, November 3, 2007
An Uncertain Love.
Dreams turned into desires,
When she made me smile,
A willing first time,
That I'll remember all life.

A kiss I can't forgive,
A touch I can weep for,
A love that fell apart long ago,
A fondness for someone,
A memory which keeps me alive,
And a heart drenched in desire,
And an unescapable fire,
That killed a mind of sanity,
And shattered thoughts of reality,
Left behind in a hurry,
And a future ofworry,
And something called uncertainity.

A realization then occurs,
And time freezes unexpectedly,
As phrases called out aloud,
"You loved me yesterday,
And remember me today,
In the near future of tomorrow,
But I remember in a time of all times,
You didn't realize it all while,
That it's a wait called just a while,
For a door named eternity,
In our world called reality."
posted by bereaved vendetta @ 1:30 AM   1 comments
A strange medley of what I can give the world of my greatest possession, creative writing.
About Me

Name: bereaved vendetta
About Me: Optically, subjectively, and figuratively: EQUIVALENT Focal plane....
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