Array ( [sid] => 104851 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Questions [time] => 2005-09-01 16:14:52 [hometext] => ((Just another collaboration of emotions bled on paper...)) [bodytext] => Why look into the distance,
If your eyes know there will only be memories embellished with white tears?

Ah, but I cannot paint you with mere shades of gray, darling manifestation,
I cannot gaze and ponder just what precise color the wind is,
The softness of your lips, the luminescent caresses of your eyes,
Because they are only vague illusion,
Yet, like air,

I breathe you,

I breathe the recollections, and the sadness, and the ephemeral joy...

My lungs are flooding with the ghost of your essence,
My throat thirsting for a more quenching liquid,
Other than your tears with the after taste of infidelity...

My hands…

Oh, these filthy… beautiful… hands,
Lamenting words the color of silent misery,
Apologizing all the while for the not-so-false lies...

And I ask you, mirror,
What hidden flower of desire will bloom within my heart,
Weeping black solitude as the silhouette of a past… (was it love?) dies,
And a new dream rises from the ashes? [comments] => 7 [counter] => 185 [topic] => 64 [informant] => FleurdeSang [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 14 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Questions


Questions
Date: Thursday, 1st September 2005 @ 04:14:52 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: FleurdeSang
Why look into the distance,
If your eyes know there will only be memories embellished with white tears?

Ah, but I cannot paint you with mere shades of gray, darling manifestation,
I cannot gaze and ponder just what precise color the wind is,
The softness of your lips, the luminescent caresses of your eyes,
Because they are only vague illusion,
Yet, like air,

I breathe you,

I breathe the recollections, and the sadness, and the ephemeral joy...

My lungs are flooding with the ghost of your essence,
My throat thirsting for a more quenching liquid,
Other than your tears with the after taste of infidelity...

My hands…

Oh, these filthy… beautiful… hands,
Lamenting words the color of silent misery,
Apologizing all the while for the not-so-false lies...

And I ask you, mirror,
What hidden flower of desire will bloom within my heart,
Weeping black solitude as the silhouette of a past… (was it love?) dies,
And a new dream rises from the ashes?

This poem is Copyright © FleurdeSang


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