Saturday, January 28, 2012

SOUTHERN DREAMS by kitkat


The glass shimmers a liquid gold
Taste sweet and simple pure
In this glass I know I have found
To lack of sleep no more endure
Within the taste I feel it said
That whisper that tears your soul
I hear the whisper enduring through
I hear I need some self control 
In this glass I behold all I need
Not want as desire to taste 
Yet in this game I shuffle with
I'm filled with impatience and haste
So in my glass I drown my soul
And weaken all my sights
That in the coming sleep I hope
All my dreams will become clear nights

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