More of my weird symbolism for you...this one's more a lament/sad love song. What do you think?
"An Acronymn for Nothing"
I cannot help but feel it
Lonliness wraps itself around
A python squeezing life from me
I cannot help but cry his name.
Ah, blue eyes. The first. The true.
Brown, curly hair, short, soft.
A whisper in the night and a laugh.
His strong arms around me once more.
I yearn for him again, my love.
My true love, my first love, mine.
Nights in ectasy, days in passion.
I fight for you, by you, forever.
I cannot help but remember it,
The touch of his skin, his lips
The laugh in his eyes, shining in glee
The way he spoke as he moved through me.
Oh solitude! Thy sting! The hated,
The vile emotion of my suffering!
My angel in his glories was taken
From me, for me, and I cry alone.
An unwanted acronymn tries to take
The place of that perfect love I had
It is but a scar on a heart of egg shells.
It is but a wish for the past.
Oh take me back to my shire,
My rose garden, the chamber of our union.
Lead me not unto an empty graveyard,
Remind me not of love's absence!
I cannot forget that day of white,
I took his hand and made him mine.
"Until death do you part."
So Aeron said, so it shall be.
And then in the small church
On the highlands, church of blue,
I sit with him, and another blue eyes
Small, sandy-haired, on my lap, my new love.
As one soul, one family, with God,
Such a Sunday shall never be again.
I see ghosts of them in my memory,
My loves, my life, my sanctuary.
Shall yet a new blue take you too?
Oh sweet acronymn of nothing!
Calloused, I lay on that grave!
The day blue eyes closed forever!
Shall not even a whisper of his name be left?
Oh my dearest love, whitest rose.
I meant so well to bury my dead,
Somewhere I buried my blue heart instead.
I screamed out his name in remorse
They cannot bury my child or my love!
Take not my angels from me! They have not died!
Oh God, must I too watch my son be crucified?
Come darkness, destroy me again.
Then I watch as it took what I held most dear.
I sat alone in a cornor, surrounded by blood
My white rose has been plucked, it is bleeding!
Cupping red in my hands, of my love,
I write with his blood on walls, something
A distress call for my hellship is sinking.
H-S-O-S, an acronymn for nothing.
Hear now I'm mourning
By the dew on an Easter day
Write down an acronymn, hiding its meaning
See in my graveyard- a name for my nothing.
Solitude.
-Crash Metallium 4-10-05