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|a-demons-angel (profile) wrote, |
on 9-17-2008 at 6:46pm
|Current mood: contemplative
Music: Walking Through the Forest - Dan Gibson
|I guess I'll restrict my thoughts to here
I'm listening to this soothing music
Its trying to relax me, but my mind just isn't having it.
Is all that I hope for really not on the line?
My little bird whispers a sweet melody in my ear
It speaks of the love we share and how pure and wonderful it is
The little bird speaks of how he'd like to always stay with me.
How everything that is his, is mine
I kiss him and put him back in his cage and leave--go about my day
But even if I could lock the cage, he has the key.
When I go away, little birdy, I know you do too..
Where is it that you go?
I wait a little while, wait until I hear the latch let up, hear the window open, hear you flit out and away into the horizon.
I turn the corner and watch you go.
But I always wonder, that when I come back, will you be there like nothing happened.
Just like always?
But I suppose you aren't a little birdy
Tonight, you're out hunting
I hope you are safe
You say you're hunting for me, and I know that its true.
You placed some of your night's rewards in my hands.
I was relunctant to accept your gift.. I know it is one of pure love. That's why I don't understand how to accept it.
No one's ever given me a gift of that sort.
But I accepted it, and forced a smile.
I know you wish to make me smile.
You go out sometimes to collect that sweet smelling herb to relieve my stress.
You truly are a sweet little bird.
I lay here now and enjoy the herb, and I know that somewhere, you are too.
I miss you
I wonder if you noticed the thin golden chain wrapped around your ankle.
Yes, it will never come off, but it is not there so that I you may never escape me.
In fact, I didn't even put it there; you did.
Do you see that the little chain leads all the way back to me?
Into a wound on my chest; an incision not yet healed. Forever new, always with fresh stitches.
The chain is pierced in my heart, I was you could see the intricacy of the piercings, it really is a work of art. And every time you smile, a new piercing is put in place, making the chain ever more secure.
And you may pull as hard as you might, but this chain is not the type that breaks.
But this flesh is easily destroyed.
And should you pull hard enough, the stitches would come loose; you would pull my heart straight from my chest.
You could be free then.
I wonder if that will be a day I will ever have to face.
Let me keep my little bird in this cage forever.
You know I am a creature of love, and I will never do him wrong.
Please, give me this one gift, if nothing else.
Please let me keep my little bird.
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