S^&Mate (Soul and Mate)

S ^ &Mate
(Soul and Mate)
Written by: Tyner Twine (me)

I'm sorry that for a while, it's your name I hear
and it's you i dream about.

Though I am dead to you,
You are alive in me,
A hope that never wavers,
Is a pain that lingers,
You are a ghost I cannot see
Though I still want to believe
Someday we’ll sadly meet
In the seed of a lonely dream

the strength you stole from me
The sight you blinded
Searches for the love stained dreams
We saw together

The lies you'd created in me,
Is enough to make the stars/ universe explode
in the heat
That little child in me,
Is in heaven right now,
You opened the door
To a sad lover's journey.

The scary search for the warm winter
brings us closer than ever ...but
the selfishness of solitude brightens the darkened mood
I am blinded but it feels so good.

With your hands,
I want you to taint me,
I'm not afraid, I hear the waves
Make me yours, as you are mine,
A nightmarish dream as we recline
This love of longing that I came to hate
Passes through the days of Fate
I sleep with you and your name...S^andMate. (Soul Mate)

The lies you'd created in me,
Is enough to make the stars/ universe explode
In the heat
That little child in me,
Is in heaven right now,
You opened the door
To a sad lover's journey.

Let us cross this bridge without love
and tie the lone blood-colored strings
And sink into the cold pain of oblivion

The lies you'd created in me,
Is enough to make the stars/ universe explode
In the heat
That little child in me,
Is in heaven right now,
You opened the door
To a sad lover's reach.

In the coming of a morning without sun
Search for me in the heat, blood and run,
The seed of lies develops into a dream
And i sink into it willingly
And dream of you loving only me
As the crimson stain blooms in my chest...

L ^3 (Love, Lust, Literature)

L^3

Tyner Twine

It has been a while since I had written,

I must have been in a two year- trance

Though the shadows of my desires're hidden,

Love and lust for writing flows like blood in these hands

What had mummed me into literary silence,

Clogged my pen and blotted my soul?

In the moments of dimmed intellectual iridescence,

the flame of this writer's heart lusts for her goal.

Show the world the beauty of words and songs,

Paint a picture exclusively unique and tragically

mortal in the audience's mind,

Satisfy the thirst of those who longs,

for the peace of the peaceful paradise if time rewind.

Such is the joy and the tragedy of a writer,

who lives as a butterfly and dies a caterpillar,

fleeting yet eternal,

jovial yet satirically tragical.

The immortality of words are....

Elixir to the memory of a stranger,

who created the world with just a pen,

Masked the tragedy of good fortune,

created the world that will last forever,

lest she is forgotten,

Lest she is forgotten.