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Literature Text
I will make you armor
Of my love
There is too much inside me
Fit to burst
So let it pour out
Crimson rivers
Molten metal
Soft and hot
Giving to the hammering
Of hands and mouths
But just wait til it hardens
You will know
The strength of me
Of my love
There is too much inside me
Fit to burst
So let it pour out
Crimson rivers
Molten metal
Soft and hot
Giving to the hammering
Of hands and mouths
But just wait til it hardens
You will know
The strength of me
Literature
Game of Love
I must not trust enough to love
The walls of my heart are high
To which only a selected few have the key
The more you give, the more you trust
The more you open up, the more you love
The more ledges you make
For others to climb
To break
The protective walls of your sacred place
Where lie your fears and your darkest thoughts
Your weaknesses, hurt and insecurities
Your wishes and burning desires
Your unconditional love
But love is a game of trust
To which I am not ready to play
You'll have to teach me the rules
Or I'll break your heart
With a grin on my face and a trophy in hand
I'll know you inside-out
From your secrets to your dreams
From
Literature
Love's Completion
Misty kisses, made of a gentle moist rapture's desire, wherein is a fantasy's erotica found
Caresses of touch sought, their rhythm an eternal echo of angels' whispered sighing
A gentle accented song softly mixed with a rebounding beat of my hidden soul,
A symphony choreographed by the night's mistress's conducting,
Gentle moonlit rays entice the tides of desire, beckoning, releasing, a passion longed for,
A passion almost found, yet never touched, never brought to completion
A heart yearns for the touch of a lover dreamed of in the shadowed realms of my spirit
Oh that he would come.
Then, as a cottony night's breeze comes over me in a slumb
Literature
Hate
I hate
I hate well
I hate feverishly
I am the churning acid in your stomach
I am the blood pounding in your head
I am the white-knuckled fist clenching to strike
I am the red haze dimming your eyes
and clouding your mind
I am the rage that lashes out at the weak
the small and defenseless
justified by tears and fueled by alcohol
I hate passionately
I am the shaking in your hands
and grinding teeth
nails digging into your palms
I am everything you hate
boiling to the surface in a froth of
bile
blood
and excrement
I am the indiscriminate spray of bullets
at the school
church
nightclub
I am the madman raving on the news
heaping blame
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