No impression made too deep.
each grain to fall, memory's keep.
In the beauty of a glass,
how we wish for time to pass!
As we watch our lives in spill--
then wish that we had time to kill.
Each thought of you, a castle spilt--
every wave, in pave of silt.
what you do with metaphor, rhyme and the emotions of your heart and soul never cease to blow me away...
No wonder me muse splits...
We wish ourselves beautiful,
we cry in the night.
Its not the love you fear ...
its the fall from the height.