Hither Come Thee?
current mood: lonely
current song: Bach "cello suite no. 1 in g major"
Hither come thee? My blood and tears,
such empty prostitution upon mine eyes and lie
do I upon my death as nails; and as such I float
upon pain, and misery, for until return will I be
a faucet under repair which leaks, for it is my heart that leaks
and fills my body with somber collections of bravery.
But it is the sunrise that falls forth under my eyelids and it is love
that fills my soul with light.
So I stretch, from here to death and back, never shuffling my feet
for it is desperate and great measures
one takes in thought and sadness in fear of losing love.
But it shall be my hope and work henceforth
which leads us unto a land of prosper.
For joy comes creeping slowly, from being ragged and walked upon
through heels of old tattered shoes, up into our legs like bottles that
hold our aspirations, and climb it shall up the ladders of our spine
and inward to our thoughts and thereforth we will hold our love
like a fire on a cold autum evening.
For in such a life as this life I've found the one that
holds me tight and ties me to such a line of worth.
For it is thee I love.