I write with my heart into ink so true,
blood washes away easier than the pain.
Touched by an angel of death giving me life,
mistaken for beauty is the darkness within.
I have fallen away before ever standing up,
memories full of tears I never wanted to cry.
Today I see in me something more than love,
a feeling I was always afraid of knowing.
I can’t seem to get enough of her soul,
insatiable desire bleeding within her arms.
The man, the writer, the feeler within myself,
reigning love in a heart so much more than lovely.
Like a wild river running through her eyes,
I cry for her as we ignite the fires with our love.
She sees me as I look deeper inside,
burning to burn in all lust we extend our hopes.
No dream left to decipher in this light,
all that we have wanted becomes all we need.
A look intense this passionate beauty in her eyes,
reflecting the past to create our future.
Is this real, what I have with her?
Does it ever get better than this perfection?
Singing to me with the beating of her love,
kissing my face she holds onto my soul.
White so afraid of who I am in black,
fiery tomb blessed with such an icy trust.
I have wandered to wonder who could understand,
hand in hand our hearts make true to the path we tread.
I cover my body in white so bright the blackness blends in,
trusting her eyes as I jump off of the edge of love.
Everyday nights befall to the Moon our Mother of light,
kissed by the holly king in a Yule time festival we have come to live.
Thrice circle bound in the sky so invigorating,
magic in our touch, heaven in our kiss.
I wait for nothing while she has me in her heart,
who I am is beautiful, she makes my love divine.
Johnny Newell
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