No outlet exists for this.
Combustible matter, we wait
For the spark
Or some heat enough allowing ignition
Or some heat enough to melt indecision.
Even breathing is sufficient friction
To push us frantic- to the fire.
We crave- the burning bliss
But we, combustible matter
At that honeyed flames first kiss
Would sublime.
That kind of mood
Moderator: Celestial Dung
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Thrall
- Tomato
- Posts: 222
- Joined: Wed Feb 19, 2003 3:25 pm
- Location: Wasted Potential 102 Jackson
- Contact:
That kind of mood
"There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me than in half the creeds"
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