Sunday, January 16, 2011

Finding My Personal Vengeance(or Evanescence)

A soft,resplendant echo
Of a single threshold touch.
I could fall a thousand steps
To reverberate under its footfall...
The 'evermore' hones an evanescent day,
And I could hear the sea-gulls humming in praise...
Warped and maimed, I could rise again---
My lone paramour, my sovereign disdain...
Nevermore, I would sing again
On a yellow,framed afternoon...
A stalker may know the wisdom
For the reasons I show.
A grave,left unattended
Filled with snow
A story,untainted
And concealed with many more.
But then you were gone
Or going away,I'm not sure...
The story would screech to a halt,
I might have crashed,I wouldn't know...
And the birds would fly away,
Leaving us thus betrothed, I want to believe...
By the rituals conferred---
A fire and a central plot,
And a mesh of 'I do'-s and 'They do'-s...
To conclude the wrought.

Do they sing 'evermore' in heaven?
Is this a dream?
Gone and nevergone,
An insensitive,unholy scheme...

And they did...

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