Poetry

Words

I’m but a writer

A poor troubadour

Building castles in clouds

Dreams and nothing more
My love is fierce 

We’ll laugh and cry

The lows may be low

But the highs will be the highest
We’ll dance among the stars

I’ll make you believe

Till we break each other’s hearts

When we both see
I’m just a writer

For as long as I live

Words are the only thing

I’ll ever have to give

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No Safe Place

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No safe place is left these days
Though I wish it wasn’t true
Hunkered, shaking, in silent cold
A piece of me in you
Amid the ruins and bleached bones
This world gone insane
Bitten, bleeding, dying, dark
In the end betrayed

It wasn’t really you
I try to believe
Like the thing I am becoming
Won’t truly be me
Maybe we’re all hungry
And that’s how it’s always been
The ones that take big pieces
Are the ones we let in
I’m turning
Yearning
http://www.amazon.com/Objects-Wrath-Sean-T-Smith/dp/1618682245/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1428375401&sr=8-1&keywords=objects+of+wrath