Tonight, i saw four muse maidens. The first was beautifully drawn, but so plain in sight
The other, was voluptuous like a ripe fruit, but was already picked and placed in someone else`s basket
The one with the stern gaze, that felt like a thorny warmth, was already hooked
and the last one, was in the right place... and the lips tasted as haven. and her attitude was streaming from her throat, as her voice shattered the windows. But she was not right for me, for she has no soul
and over all most of all, i am in love with the punkish girl next door. a soul of a woman trapped in a body of a child, shackled by her own bouinries but freed by her imagenation
Not so as an immortal butterfly that cuts his strings, but most as small feather slowling accending and deccenind, Like a Harbinger
cancel your subscription to the resurrection, I want to stay
for when peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars
I shall be a king of the shadow, a placeholder of none
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