My love she
Has a strange sense of sync
She talks in her sleep.
About a sailing ship
A ship in a sea made of fishes
Grinding against the base of blades
A ship dying along the beasts
Made of desire and aids
The story she said
Of a master of hares
In a black coat to crow feathers
A cane
And a hat of his dame
Then she would wake and say
"Don't look at me that way"
And turn away.
My love she
Has a deathly stare
Not because she glares or hate
But a decency she says
Has brought her
There
My love she
Comes to my pain
In the dark she says
"My love, come to me"
"To my ship in
The sea
The master he
Will call to
You
Come to me and
I can't see you here
Here where you think
I have left"
"My love come to me"
YOU ARE READING
A Small Collection Of Poems
PuisiA majority of these are very random, read at your own risk. I'm not a big poet but if you do dare to read these, I recommend you to not read the older ones that I've meticulously placed at the end. They are horrible but the brain that I stole from s...
