Mood:Hazy
Topic:2AM
::sigh:: I hate it when I don't sleep properly it makes my head a little sensitive to everything. Like I'm more suspetable to odd dreams and such. Anyway I wrote a little Poem a few nights ago when i couldn't sleep. I think it's nice...but I feel it's not finished like I'm missing something or that I could do more with it. But I also feel I could let it stand as is. I would like Lum to read it if she finds the time because her opinion to me is like....::searches for suitable comparison but can't find one unless she says God and that seems a little blashmous::...a REALLY big deal to me ^-^
So yes...this was written at hahah you guessed it 2am(Johnny Time?) and well it maybe a little incoherent and the like but yes. My poem though It’s called Cradle…it’s kinda like a song
Cradle
Night arrives on merciful wings.
I long to collapse into your bed.
Take this broken body and inspect it.
This world’s persecution has given me a shattered heart, a demolished soul, and tattered
wings…simply hold them in your gaze.
Survey if I am worthy of you time so you may resolve this disarray
I beg of thee, please let me rest in your arms, let them be my sanctuary, give me a place
to sleep, a cradle
The world is an awful place.
The wings I started this journey with are scorched and tattered
I may not look like much anymore
But let me spend one night in my cradle and I will be reborn
Your warmth consumes me as your life rings in my ears.
A smiles play across my lips—my life flees as quickly as yours.
I cling to you and behave as a child because here in my cradle no harm can befall me
The world is an awful place.
The wings I started this journey with are scorched and tattered
I may not look like much anymore
But let me spend one night in my cradle and I will be reborn
Dawn takes the place of night and I must go.
I’ve stolen rejuvenation from your arms or was it your gift to me.
You washed my wounds,
bound my broken wing,
returned me to full health but what is the price?
My Body?
My Soul?
No
you say
You see I too am battered and broken so simply
Your Love
And a cradle
Is what I ask
The world is an awful place.
The wings I started this journey with are scorched and tattered
I may not look like much anymore
But let me spend one night in my cradle and I will be reborn
Topic:2AM
::sigh:: I hate it when I don't sleep properly it makes my head a little sensitive to everything. Like I'm more suspetable to odd dreams and such. Anyway I wrote a little Poem a few nights ago when i couldn't sleep. I think it's nice...but I feel it's not finished like I'm missing something or that I could do more with it. But I also feel I could let it stand as is. I would like Lum to read it if she finds the time because her opinion to me is like....::searches for suitable comparison but can't find one unless she says God and that seems a little blashmous::...a REALLY big deal to me ^-^
So yes...this was written at hahah you guessed it 2am(Johnny Time?) and well it maybe a little incoherent and the like but yes. My poem though It’s called Cradle…it’s kinda like a song
Cradle
Night arrives on merciful wings.
I long to collapse into your bed.
Take this broken body and inspect it.
This world’s persecution has given me a shattered heart, a demolished soul, and tattered
wings…simply hold them in your gaze.
Survey if I am worthy of you time so you may resolve this disarray
I beg of thee, please let me rest in your arms, let them be my sanctuary, give me a place
to sleep, a cradle
The world is an awful place.
The wings I started this journey with are scorched and tattered
I may not look like much anymore
But let me spend one night in my cradle and I will be reborn
Your warmth consumes me as your life rings in my ears.
A smiles play across my lips—my life flees as quickly as yours.
I cling to you and behave as a child because here in my cradle no harm can befall me
The world is an awful place.
The wings I started this journey with are scorched and tattered
I may not look like much anymore
But let me spend one night in my cradle and I will be reborn
Dawn takes the place of night and I must go.
I’ve stolen rejuvenation from your arms or was it your gift to me.
You washed my wounds,
bound my broken wing,
returned me to full health but what is the price?
My Body?
My Soul?
No
you say
You see I too am battered and broken so simply
Your Love
And a cradle
Is what I ask
The world is an awful place.
The wings I started this journey with are scorched and tattered
I may not look like much anymore
But let me spend one night in my cradle and I will be reborn
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