harmony...
There are desires in all of us that weave into skeins of ceremonial or elementary harmony; let your beloved’s beguiling smile and spurious lies amalgamate itself with this strain, the delusive note is struck, discord declares itself, and Love itself, the great Composer, can do nothing in this life to restore the old tranquil tune of pristine days. A lesson we must learn before we and grief grow old together.
5 comments:
**hugs**. Wow.
thanks.. *hugs* ;)
No I don't steal words, but sometimes, remembering them comes in handy.
I dance in tune with what I fear
To do adrenaline
Completely rapt with what I hear
When passion colors everything
The songs I sing, from way out there to deep within
The face I wear behind my grin
The mess I made to the original sin
Everything, everything, everything
I dance entangled with my dear
She pulls my every string
Completely trapped yet never here
When passion colors everything...
- Poets of the fall.
oh wao thath sounds so wise and elemental....do you mean childhood by 'pristine days'?
yes.. the days when you had started believing in "Love" :)
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