06-06-2008, 07:30 PM
((Poem copyrighted to vannah Darr (ME!) ))
She sat alone in the living room of the manor, reading. She was stretched out in the chair Lucifer preferred when he was in there. She only did it to irritate him, to rend him she would never REALLY leave. Not with her children here. The book was dry and boring, so she picked up her journal and began writing. Words came to find, paiting images in her head.
Winter is a time of parting
bittersweet and melancholy
So it was with the love you had for me
It was a fleeting, transient thing
Quick to flare, but slow to burn bright
More like a shooting star
there one moment, gone the next
What was it? one year? She felt melancholy and angry. More and more, the anger burned away the melancholy. but here, laying across the arms of Lucifer's favorite chair, feeling wrapped in his arms. Anger filled her and she deliberatley dragged her claws down the face of it, tearing holes in the upholstry. Another idea struck her, and she jotted down the ending.
And the summer was our winter
A summer fling so quick to end
but you claim your heart is sore without me
Yet while I lingered, your heart set on other dreams
Now that I don’t need you
You pine for me endlessly
(Yet when I ached, you weren’t there at all....)
A summer fling. They should have left it that way.
She sat alone in the living room of the manor, reading. She was stretched out in the chair Lucifer preferred when he was in there. She only did it to irritate him, to rend him she would never REALLY leave. Not with her children here. The book was dry and boring, so she picked up her journal and began writing. Words came to find, paiting images in her head.
Winter is a time of parting
bittersweet and melancholy
So it was with the love you had for me
It was a fleeting, transient thing
Quick to flare, but slow to burn bright
More like a shooting star
there one moment, gone the next
What was it? one year? She felt melancholy and angry. More and more, the anger burned away the melancholy. but here, laying across the arms of Lucifer's favorite chair, feeling wrapped in his arms. Anger filled her and she deliberatley dragged her claws down the face of it, tearing holes in the upholstry. Another idea struck her, and she jotted down the ending.
And the summer was our winter
A summer fling so quick to end
but you claim your heart is sore without me
Yet while I lingered, your heart set on other dreams
Now that I don’t need you
You pine for me endlessly
(Yet when I ached, you weren’t there at all....)
A summer fling. They should have left it that way.