[aVorbiss]: 642.Poetry.Butterfly

The scene of a tragic love song,
A play that's been played for too long.
Where is is that his heart belongs?
It's either high above clouds or
Covered in the shrouds
Of what his live has become.

Oh, silky skinned lady.
I've admired from afar the vista,
I've pondered upon a....

Hopeless dreams distorted by fantasy,
I'll do my best to handle it romantically.
Set her down while I set you up,
Cause you always know I'll come back around.
This is the motif of my tragic love song,
A show that's sold out for far too long
And, to who is it that his love belongs?
It must be one or the other,
Or both will be smothered
By what his life has done
To each and every one.

Oh, living in vivid dreams.
In angelic motions you let
Life get the best of me.
When love isn't what it seems,
Boy there are hearts you haven't touched yet.
You've found the door but not the key.

Oh, lady, what you inspire in me
Is like a new drop of rain, getting wet
With an old, new feeling.
I've admired from afar the vista,
I've pensively pondered on a hopeless dream.
Lady, what haven't your fingers felt?

Oh, Lady, what secrets do your lips hold?
What is it that your mouth hasn't told?

Oh Lady, what's that shimmering gleam in your eyes?
Are there unheard of cries?
Through all the lies he searches for reasons why.

Oh, my dear Lady, what scents plague your nose?
A field of flowers, each petal cushioning the blows
Of a restless teenage mind, heart, like a rose.
It seems this field only grows and grows,
And every butterfly is in the throes of love's woes.

As I approach the stage,
Just behind the curtain's rage,
I hear my cue come from you,
But now I'm unsure on what to do.
Each step I take closer, I'm further away,
My voice fails me and I've nothing to say,
Nothing other than you being my day,
And you magically sway into night,
And in that lovely display my heart may betray
But I would have it no other way.