Poeter.se logo icon
Redan medlem?   Logga in




 

Battlefield of Desire

My battle is fought in a conscience made of muddy snow,
not knowing on which side of the battlefield I should be.
I imagine how your eyes would look at mine,
if I came to climb over the barbed wire.

You have occupied a territory in my mind,
I should fight you but instead I'm reaching enemy lines.
I'm to courious not to know how far I could go,
how far I would dare, how hard I would fall.

The further away the deeper the snow,
no compass can navigate me from here.
Lit no fires, leave no traces, you're a tratior now.
The slippery road goes downhill, downwards,
I'm staring down the chasm and I know you stand behind me.
The wolf has caught his prey, his deer.

The night is silent, the night is cold,
but it's the thought of your touch that makes me shiver.
Let me feel your hands then, pull me near,
Please, hold me hard and whisper softly in my ear;
that you want me, how you want me.




Fri vers (Fri form) av Bittersweet__
Läst 141 gånger
Publicerad 2019-09-08 15:47



Bookmark and Share

  > Nästa text
< Föregående

Bittersweet__
Bittersweet__