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Lighting Lots These are the days that make you true, these are the skies that ring ever blue. Last one of purple haze, these moments draw my gaze. Leaving and believing, one true poet for the saving. A book burns at 451 degrees Fahrenheit, just to give supremists light. Gypies, tramps and thieves are my friends in life, only I can truly play the Lord's fife. My heart expands, tis grown a bulge in it. Inspired by your beauty effulgent. Until the next dance.

Posted by: Bradley_Nephilim Sat Aug 13, 2005 @ 05:52am

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn

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rainboots
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Commented on: Sat Aug 13, 2005 @ 08:05pm


	that was really beautiful. When I read your entries, I don't know what to think. I always feel as if these are true events that have happened in your life, but you change it to seem like... something out of heaven. In poetry. It's like... you. I don't know what I'm saying sweatdrop but I feel it. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel it. There's pain in this entry isnt there?

Commented on: Sat Aug 13, 2005 @ 10:11pm


	Whoa that was amazing u are really good....u r way better the i am mine are just stuff about darkness u have meaning to urs...meaning that i could never have

Shifter3
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