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Jonathon Thomas Davish

of

Trenton, OH, US

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Thinking of love

by

Jonathon Thomas Davish

To whom it concerns,
That I awake each day to hear a million voices,
nay,a trillion voices all whispering the word love

That,every time my eyes are closed I long to see your
buety at any cost or expense.

That,wene I smell your perfume it twirls me in a dazed
and confused state of tingling feelings all through my body

That,even as the world falls apart around our dead corpses
laying lifeless and sprawled across the ground,our love is
still there,present even after death.

That,if you died today every wakeing moment I would wish
for my demise,and every night with eyes closed so tight,
I would dream of a day of death.

That,to turn your head would be to miss your eyes of passion.
A tear,a glimmer falling from your eye would make me kill.

That,the words of one man could excite and race the heart of
a frail flower gentle in every way.

That I have searched high and low for a love so honest,so true,
so meaningfull that the world could not hold it. Forgetting
about worries and woes and the sorro's of a million burning
souls. To search lifetime after lifetime and to no prevail.

A tear hits the ground, feeling as if no one is listening,as
if no one feels your pain,as if to wrench out your own heart
with a spoon to see the cracking and crumbling of it right in
front of you. You lay there helpless,stareing at the pile of
rubble that was once so filled so red thumping with the melody
of love,crushed for the search for the truth of the heart.

The truth is,that lies spit from the mouths of people like fire
burning the insides of souls tearing off piece by piece,
incinerating the emotions and feelings of one that has done nothing
to deserve the grim face of demise.

Forgetting your world for what it's worth and closeing your
eye's one last time. An image proceeds to come to you time
after time,reaccurances of the task you have just finished.
Walking down a hall that seems to never end with doors on each
side lined down the endless path. You open a door to see a
woman with beauty from wich you have never seen before laying
on a bed of roses. She turns her head away and returns with the
face of evil reaching for you with hands of fire.

Is this a dream?,or is this what people don't see in the eyes
of someone whom they think they love...