Sunday, 23 August 2009


I promise you this, on a night of one thousand stars.
I promise you my tears and the ash they turned to when you lit your match and let them burn.

Please do your worst, your own worst enemy.
You don't realise that the sword you hold so high, and so proud, the sword that is still singing, is in your own back.

No more tears. Immersed I watch you gathered in shadows, telling tales, selling your stories, playing with passions that are drowning your soul. Your compromised morals disgust me.

The game you play, the war you started, the blood you drank, I watch you.
I watch you battle daylight, a flower who blooms only when the black cape of the night arrives. A beauty who wears that cape well, so well, as you keep breaking my heart in the dark.

I promise you this, my hand.

I hold it out to you as I watch them silently rape you to an awaiting nations delight. Snakes tighten the poison they induced into you and as the shadows dance you are powerless. 
A blazing inferno devours all you know.
And I'll hold out my hand to you, and I'll catch the tears that you can't cry.

You're on the verge, tottering so delicately and you'll fall.
Your fall from grace will be ignored, there is no stopping this light now, and as you wither by the light of the candle,
I promise you this,
My hand.


  1. I keep thinking about this.

    And I just can't understand it no matter how much I try.

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