Monday, February 6, 2012

Philophobia.

The tides of time are taking
The shining hope of mine
and pitting against
the deepest fear I have.

A self made with both stirling silver and wrought iron
A cathedral shattered after a thousand black storms
A swath of beautiful boys all plotting murder

This is when he and she
Mingle into one

The ticks of time are telling
My sanguine heart
to battle the pulses
of a churning stomach

A vibrant and warm painting that is highlighted with blood
A parent who looks you straight in the eye and speaks distain
A country where violence is the native language

These are the places
Where two terrible opposites become one

The tales of time are talking
They speak of benevolence
And horrific revelry in equal amounts
But never at the same time

A weeping child in the night who dances through the day
A creeping vine that burns in the light
A mountain standing despite too many lifetimes

They only need one thing to endure
But that one element is really two

Love and Fear

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