Collin Dupré
Oh, he’s just a hopeless, stereotypical romantic. On a side note, I think I’m going to start spacing out my stanzas like this, instead of just leaving them be.
Collin Dupré
We idled eternity by the river/lost in a wave of love/submerged in passionate embrace/and caught somewhere between lust and longing
The debris floated past, twirling and unconcerned/with life and loss, after leaving all behind/when did we become like those specks of dust/passing in the other’s eyes?
My love flew like a witch’s arrow/straight into your heart/borne on the wings of song/instead of magic which makes us part
Why then do you turn aside/stomping on my extended soul/as you take a knife to my hopes and dreams/butchering them like peasant’s meat
I beg outside your window/strumming on my lute/my voice as clear as a lark’s call/and ten times as sweet.
You ignore me regardless/a hunter with a bow/loosing an arrow which flies on/and catches this lark in its breast
I could lie at your feet for days/and you’d still kick me aside/without thought for those days at the river/and what you left behind.
