 | He is the Labyrinth of my love,
as gentle as the night sky in the desert
he an alluring creature is my bane, my root,
my rock and sanity. He is like venus' picture,
in a mans beauty standing so tall like Davids
deplored form in the pale marble of darkness.
Angels never haunt me or my love, but only whisper,
only whisper them to him and feed him my love through,
there weary bosoms of my message.
You were the Labyrinth of my love,
as soft and beauitulf as the night sky.
You were my rock and my salvation,
you were my gentle sigh of pain as you left me
alone in the florescent light of your cold
beautiful statue saying that I should love it,
not the breathing beauty I would have wanted.
The Angels weep, I do not dream deep as the world seeps
into the darkness of that staue which I see before me.
I kiss the cold stone lips as if I was kissing you. |  |
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