Saturday, April 30, 2011

Before The Greatest Love

Last night, ah, yesterday, I left the coldest kiss,
And my shadow like a stranger slipped away.
Through torrent winds amongst bending trees,
I felt desolate yet sick of my old passion.

In my waking hours I found dawn was gray,
And not one moment did her ghost begin to haunt me.
The feast was done and the lamp oil expired,
And I'm desolate yet sick of my old passion.

Surely the kisses she brought at first were sweet
But some how the fire died and I didn't perspire.
I am hungry for passion.
I cry for madder music and stronger wine.


Brit Nicole said...

I love this Mr. Carlus! I saw it, everything and it was a beautifully bitter experience that I enjoyed.

mom said...
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Rita said...

A beautiful, dark, cry to know passion .....Deep Love