graceless

So much movement in the way, life draws me hurried down paved roads of Prussian blue stepping stones buried under moonlit feet.We threw our last asunder and trampled beyond crumbs, you in your straight to the point one worded sterness sucking all the life from literacies finest purple words that’ve wounded a thousand hearts. All you can say is “Its my way baby or you can walk away”.

Truest rhythm in the sway of erosion’s ebb and flow of cast off emotions tossed o’er to the Sea. By the Grace of grace this vow we make, My love lets call it done
before the god’s wrath bolts us from our shoes.

Sun fades under bright stars burning dark before we can stand to claim whatever seasick motion came from our fleeting desire. The fame to the god’s my dear. We’ve nothing to do with love. No not even the word could grace our lips lest it slips when we stayed upon friends. Our latest trend of tangled words and weapons purged all we could ever do. My love lets call it done and laugh the thought we dreamt of when we held any hope for “me and you”.

Do you really think God would dare trust us with such a tender passion? Certainly not me who colors the world so silly and lives a freedom that spurns your wrath, and willy nilly I dance In the rain while you stiffen cuz I’m getting my new dress muddy. There you stand not a flaw, with perfect everything and a stonewall ego still intact. You’re so grand standing there looking down at me the half hazard peacock with wrinkled feathers that burrows like a burr in your sock. I’m clowning and coloring all over your black and white drab straight-laced life and you’re erasing the mustache smiles from the faces I’ve tattooed along my walk. No love! The sun wouldn’t dare grace the sky if we ever went to wed. Intense passion between lovers who never should; rain and storms and crashing thunder, that’s what we are when we’re together. Shame on us to ever think we could. My lessons learned and deep inside I thought that…somewhere in our changed states we could hang up our ego’s and see how this thing could go if we walked this life together. I guess now we know. The fame to the god’s my love, we’ve nothing to do with loves’ crumbling. No not even the word slips when we realize we should’ve stayed upon friends. Our latest trend of tangled words and weapons purged all hurt we had left to muster.

~ by KrisRaah on March 30, 2008.