In a pagan poetry kind of mood. I find An accurate copy A blueprint Of the pleasure In me... A secret code carved He offers A handshake Crooked Five fingers They form a pattern Yet to be matched On the surface simplicityBut the darkest... Morsecoding signals They pulsate wake me up from my hibernating This time Im gonna keep me all to myself ...And he makes me want to hand myself over And he makes me want to hand myself over
Posted on: Sat, 14 Jun 2014 12:36:01 +0000