Sunday, July 3, 2011

This Night.

Am I the only one at fault to notice,
That when romance takes its place,
The talking turns to whispers,
And the motionless time turns back.

Everything and anything you say doesn't matter,
And when you do the wrong,
Your never at fault,
You never stop and halt.

You bring life back from reality,
Bring that light out of me,
Forming a quiet pattern,
You mold into each other as one, as Saturn.
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