(sweet depression)Hole

[Hannibal]

I suppose I shall concede now,
To these endless sounds and emotions,
Crowding my excruciatingly taxed ears.

Giving way to an intoxicatingly low evening,
Where the sunlight penetrates never so deeply,
And the moonlight bounces with glee across misty fields afar.

I hear such sounds and voices,
Yet cannot discern those which should be -
Listened to? Or laughed at...
So again I am left to tear at myself,
And pick apart the idea of a sound and it's words,
That speak without the afformentioned words,
But with the waves as it reaches my ears,
And the seconds my brain relishes it's being.

Cannot the moonbeams be but beauty unjust for words?
The sunlight perhaps a becon of nothingness,
For they reach us in the same manner,
And the sounds beleive in each,
To each a different set of course.
But I question this,
And once again I'm lost in the stale stagnent air,
Surrounding me as I sit,
Touched by a fake lighting,
Giving me nothing of which I need,
Imagining everything, and nothing at all.

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[Hannibal]

Yes yes, and this one as well... I need thoughts on this one as well...

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[rose]

ok i love the last stanza but it still...i cant even say that it sucks cause im toooo nice and its too good. so kiss my arse christopher!!!!!!!!!! people read this and post to it. it doesnt belong on page two
~A~

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