Pure, Wicked Dreams

    When all I have’s words, how cruel of you 
    to take them all away, to leave my mind 
    desolate, when I still have much to say.
    When, on silent nights I want to drive you
    to distant places you have never been, 
    to scenic mountains and white, sandy shores, 
    love, how cruel of you to let me wait 
    alone in the dark
    . When my wicked mind
    schemes angelic planshow very cruel 
    of you to feed me guilt of a wrongdoing. 
    And when all I breathe, I taste, I desire;
    when all the fires inside me form your frame, 
    tell me, how so very cruel of you 
    to let me wake up without you beside 
    me, wondering if it’s all been a dream.


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