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wounds & cyclones.

rewiiired

Bluelighter
Joined
Jan 20, 2002
Messages
1,802
Location
Chair.
Powerless against the force
that drives me under, a slave
to the cyclone within.

Take cover, the last thing I'd want
is for you to get caught in the crossfire.
Hold tight and you're sure to be
the target again soon enough.

So tired I can't sleep.
The greed drives me to squeeze
every drop of life I can sip from this.
Feed me another supposed solution to help
form my dream of some euphoric revolution.

Seems pain is pleasure nowadays,
and sensuality is under suspicion.
The extreme traps attention, and
its what I need to bleed out
and feed my withered soul.

Like you, I'm just a slave to the
cyclone within that never ends.
Back here again, caught in the
grips of your crossfire,
how I wish I were
the target again.

Your painfully sensual
and pleasantly suspicious,
so I hold tight in anticipation,
hiding undercover again,
Powerless against the force
that drives me under and
hungry for the wounds.
 
I can't beleive how good this is, you really are a damn good writer! I feel this (I'm actually in this frame of mind right now), I really can't put into words what I'm trying to say here but this just bowls me over:

Powerless against the force
that drives me under and
hungry for the wounds.
 
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