Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Carve your finest rhymes in me

O angel of my fleeting dreams
Carve your finest verse in my lowly heart
Labour not on pillars of stones
For they erode away and gather moss
And the hardest iron rust away in the rain
Even the pages of time will run out one day
But carve your rhymes with the chisel of love
With those delicate little hands of yours
On this lone and pensive heart of mine
I shall bear the bleeding and pain with joy
And my soul shall carry your words
Beyond the realm of eternity
Stash your tools and rest
In the secret chamber of my heart
There is a peaceful dwelling place
That I have furnished with the finest dreams
And etched on the walls is a secret wish
That you too may dwell there eternally

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