Baby,
When I shut my eyes,
We were in my tranquil attic,
One where the demons swayed,
And the music was always dramatic.
We curled up in bed,
Beneath the leaden sky,
Listening to the heavens howl,
And the intoxicating clouds cry.
When the rains solaced,
the fire within our soul,
The candles painted,
the world around you glimmering gold.
Like an ancient Renaissance portrait,
You looked auroral,
I chanted poesy in you glory,
Those rituals to make you immortal.
I felt safe and sound,
In this comfortable silence,
We shut the attic door,
To the world full of violence.
We were a sin in the eyes of the world,
We were tired of those faces,
Let's dwell in this sky parlour eternally,
Until flowers bloom over our corpses.
~a.b.
YOU ARE READING
Fire and Flood
PoetryShe hardly met sunshine, Her lover in disguise, But when they met, They drew colourful rainbows on the skies.
