plazma
Bluelighter
Where once the flames of passion lept
Cold ashes remain, sifting slowly in the wind
A long dead bonfire of our collective vanity
Amo Veni, Amo Vidi, Amo Vici
And we the spoils of that conquest
Enslaved to each other and ourselves
For a thousand years or one
The iron bonds of love do rust in time
Appear solid as the day they were cast
And yet one touch will shatter them to fragments
Sepia toned, dusted with nostalgia
Our memories preserved
Antiques from some forgotten age
Of younger passion
Blessed are those who remember
For they shall see fault
This strange mirror of youth
Reflecting only what we desired to see
Yet in the icy light of wisdom
Hope does yet shine again
And still, and always I look back
On that crusade of foolishness
With fond eyes and warm heart
For were we not all young once
Always youth declaims its fire of passion
To be everlasting and eternal
Yet hot flame must give way to ashes
As shall the flower of youth
Wither and die upon the vine of time
And our memories of young love
Remain a blanket, 'gainst the cold
Of age and certain death
-plaz out-
[ 17 September 2002: Message edited by: plazma ]
Cold ashes remain, sifting slowly in the wind
A long dead bonfire of our collective vanity
Amo Veni, Amo Vidi, Amo Vici
And we the spoils of that conquest
Enslaved to each other and ourselves
For a thousand years or one
The iron bonds of love do rust in time
Appear solid as the day they were cast
And yet one touch will shatter them to fragments
Sepia toned, dusted with nostalgia
Our memories preserved
Antiques from some forgotten age
Of younger passion
Blessed are those who remember
For they shall see fault
This strange mirror of youth
Reflecting only what we desired to see
Yet in the icy light of wisdom
Hope does yet shine again
And still, and always I look back
On that crusade of foolishness
With fond eyes and warm heart
For were we not all young once
Always youth declaims its fire of passion
To be everlasting and eternal
Yet hot flame must give way to ashes
As shall the flower of youth
Wither and die upon the vine of time
And our memories of young love
Remain a blanket, 'gainst the cold
Of age and certain death
-plaz out-
[ 17 September 2002: Message edited by: plazma ]
