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Wednesday, June 4, 2008
10:09 PM

I speak of love.
And all it's intricate complications.
At times a sweet snow-dusted dove,
At others a serpent; a vile politician.

It is the morning dew.
The sunbeams streaming through.
The passionate kiss that few
Could ever rue.

It is the night-black grief.
The raven's oily plumage.
Like foamy waves crashing on puckered reefs,
Wearing contentment as it's visage.

But it's true.
For few can escape it's nets.
On Love's angel wings we flew,
And it's devilish counterpart, we too have met.

Live to Love.
Love to Live.
'Tis a pleasent arrangement. By Jove!
To each other, this gift we give.

Romulus Demonicus


ravens

:)
RAVENS
:)
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