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Patterns

Patterns

Patterns

Patterns

You will never know the twisted patterns that I play,
‘Til now my dreams were all in black and white,
But you are there in colour, brindle hair and eyes blue-grey,
An unknown fragment here, a welcome sight.

You could never know the shadowed haunting of my soul,
The silhouettes that dwell from days long past.
With ghostly spirits stabbing at the scars from yesterday,
I long for something solid, standing fast.

You must never know the gentle yearnings deep within
The longings here that press me evermore
Desires – more than passion, more than hunger, sharply honed,
Engulfing me, now filling every pore.

Tomorrow I will know a different light, a different song,
Perhaps with help from you, a different way,
For now, I’ll simply move about the long and winding paths
Within the twisted patterns that I play.

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