Swift away the curtains, from moments that have my thoughts...
Let it become a clear new day
Something was born there
Flying like dust everywhere
Give me a room on the hills
Whispering wind that drills
Moments to have my thoughts
Tying their own kind of knots
Deep into dry and rain
Against the drove nailing pain
Quarrels and other erosions
Affecting and gliding explosions
Disappearances in their turning
Carried away and burning
With their crumpling faces
Each to each other chases
Touch them and bring home
Flowers of fallen chromosome
Justice be done to them all
They have their ways and brawl
Scattering taste and more
Moving against the ashore
Imageless visions and blues
Dangerous out of finite fuse
Touch the night away
Let it become a clear new day
Poetry by Peter S. Quinn
Read 1053 times
Written on 2006-11-02 at 03:13
Tags Touch Visions Fuse
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Touch the Night Away
Touch the night awayLet it become a clear new day
Something was born there
Flying like dust everywhere
Give me a room on the hills
Whispering wind that drills
Moments to have my thoughts
Tying their own kind of knots
Deep into dry and rain
Against the drove nailing pain
Quarrels and other erosions
Affecting and gliding explosions
Disappearances in their turning
Carried away and burning
With their crumpling faces
Each to each other chases
Touch them and bring home
Flowers of fallen chromosome
Justice be done to them all
They have their ways and brawl
Scattering taste and more
Moving against the ashore
Imageless visions and blues
Dangerous out of finite fuse
Touch the night away
Let it become a clear new day
Poetry by Peter S. Quinn
Read 1053 times
Written on 2006-11-02 at 03:13
Tags Touch Visions Fuse
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text