What is this magical place? Where hearts are full And the wind dances? Sorrow in the leaves The scribe of our memories? Lost in the frost of winter Found in the light of spring. You were this ever elusive thing. Where is this magical place?
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Let your fingers guide you Down an alley of strings. The melody of snow flakes Be the conductor of your dreams. Wrap your arms around me The lyrics to your song Let us play all night regardless Of knowing tomorrow it was wrong.
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I want your words To mean something. Lest they become Empty Pathways from an Empty Hollow space. The light between us Empty Rays against sharp walls.
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Where one meets the other The stark border Of our differences. Warmth of your fire, Strength of my beams Colliding together – A shelter. Our refuge. Home of the Hearth.
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A stone to mold a river’s stream, A drop of water to carve the stone. A love affair, A driving force. A flood of destruction, A painful drought. A world without one, A death for the other.
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We are but two pieces, To a much larger sort of picture. Born of equal content, Blemished and imperfect. Weathered by the seasons And tarnished with age. Yet here we stand, Together, quite different. Reliant on each, Divided.
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Deprived to thirst. Eager in patience. Lonely until the drop.
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Moth-er fuck-ing, shit! Spider on toothbrush bristles! Still, minty fresh breath.
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Like this old relic Let’s get lost in the current: My new adventure.
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Sing me a story; I’d drive another ninety Just to hear you play.
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