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Love denies | by Lumase
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Love denies

There's a place out

of time out

of space. Its lights are black,

its blacks are gilded.

Wine gushes from its fountains,

grains of sand are mountains.

 

Concept of gravity is useless,

tilling vanity is the mess in its pace.

There's no deep no weep no steep

slopes, no up no down neither wrong

nor right direction to take:

it's already been taken

 

lives before.

All is warmth, all is dance.

And heartbeat's a call

for snow upon the ending fall.

What does love denies?

Nothing but its whys,

 

oh, nothing, nothing but its lies.

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Taken on September 15, 2007