Abiding in a lonely reality
towers of flesh mount on me,
fill the shimmer of praise for a woman,
with her pumping blood.

And I quake at the need of a man~
See in me this land of fools

that heat my soul, with touch of a hand,
bleeding gums swell in my mouth's own juice,
I, the slave to a fragile requisite of pledges

And I shake at the want of man's touch~

Patheic, be the name of a woman,
who longs for love when only lust
exsist in the heart, it is not destiny in a hauntued
face to feel that glorious momentum of climax

And I break knowing I am a fugitive in man's dark night~

Viesta 98!~ > Feather in Me~~ > > Feather of my yearning for life, > feather of my vain desire > to grind the mist with frivolous laughter at the sun, > feather of my longing for embraces > that fill the night with hushed tones, > feather of peace that listens to star-lit whispers > and echos them back to a tender heart of need, > > > > I am the feather that will float in a breeze, carried > away to awaken in your slow decay > and return to the place of dreams, > to the skies of no boundaries or recalling of time, > by silently absorbing the impacts of harsh expressions > As I, the feather will find other meaningless destinations > to abide, weightless, waiting to be carried away in a >current~ > >Viesta~ 98