Runic



bye a violet lamp the flames fed with flowers

feel not the rain the night quite strange and chill

warms your caress, whether you will

ever undress, the naked pale hours

spill petals like thought to cover your skin

it's perfect designs of midnight pantomimes

the absolute runes of virtue and sin

waiting within,

a breath's sacred pent

such moments are spent,

never again

feel not the rain,

the night quite strange

and chill...



Poetry by fyodr
Read 533 times
Written on 2007-08-20 at 14:44

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