Lover's Eyes

Mumford and Sons and their song "Lover's Eyes" 

Love was kind for a time
But now just aches and it makes me blind
This mirror holds my eyes too bright
I can't see the others in my life
Were we too young
And heads too strong
To bear the weight of these lover's eyes

'Cause I feel numb beneath your tongue
Beneath the curse of these lover's eyes

But do not ask the price I pay
I must live with my quiet rage
Tame the ghosts in my head
That run wild and wish me dead
Should you shake my ash to the wind
Lord forget all of my sins
Well let me die where I lie
'Neath the curse of my lover's eyes

'Cause there's no drink
Or drug I've tried
To rid the curse of these lover's eyes
And I feel numb beneath your tongue
Your strength just makes me feel less strong

But do not ask the price I pay
I must live with my quiet rage
Tame the ghosts in my head
That run wild and wish me dead
Should you shake my ash to the wind
Lord forget all of my sins
Well let me die where I lie
'Neath the curse of my lover's eyes

I walk slow
I walk slow
Take my hand 
Help me on my way

I walk slow
I walk slow
Take my hand 
Help me on my way

I walk slow
I walk slow
Take my hand 
Help me on my way

I walk slow
I walk slow
Take my hand 
Help me on my way

He is haunted by the memory of the beautiful past. It makes him angry and at first he wants to run. Hope is gone and her eyes which once kindled his passion now stoke the fire of doubt and uncertainty. He thinks he is alone in these thoughts and feelings He does some deep self-reflection and prayer “Lord forget all of my sins. well let me die where I lie." He just wants to quit. However hope is rekindled. Calm down. Walk slow. Take my hand. Help me on my way. You have to accept and live with your quiet rage. Tame the ghost in your head that seem like they are going to kill you. The curse of your lover’s eyes is a calling to something even greater than the immature love he once felt.

never saw you coming

Look what you have done
You're my favourite song
Always on the tip of my tongue
The tip of my tongue

Beauty and the Beast

For the Beast loved Beauty so greatly, that he gave up the chance to be human again, and let Beauty leave. In this one selfless act he showed more love then any other act man or beast could perform. 

Star

The first star
I see tonight
Reminds me of you
My hearts delight

Poems from me to you

Here are some more poems that I wrote..

My Love

My love is creasing

For your heart

And when I’m dreaming

We’re never apart  

My Heart 

My heart was hard

Then I met you

and now you rule

all of my heart

Joyful Manwhen I think

I think of you

When I dream

I dream of you

when I ask

For thy soft hand

I shall be

A joyful man 

Why?

Why do i have a blog????? i dont even like blogging... but whatever

Gosh Why

So... when you get sad and cry like at the end of My Dog Skip and Marley and Me, it makes you feel weak. I am here to tell you that it is not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength. Now i am not a very feminine man, actually i am not feminine at all. i have no idea what i am writing..... forget this....

This is a first draft of this poem... so don't be to judge mental.. :) but i appreciate all the comments.   

My Life Risen Up

I am the Iron Ore,

Waiting in the dark,

Waiting to be found,

So I can be used for all around

I am the scattered bits,

Stuck in between the ground,

Waiting for the glorious day,

The day that I will be found,

I hear a strange awestruck noise,

A bang, a boom, then light,

The day that has been oh so longed,

The day I have been found,

The man, he takes his iron pick,

Oh so sharp and strong,

And digs me out, of my black pit,

And takes me from the ground,

He takes me back, to his shop,

Where he will make a anew,

In something that, can be used for him,

And I will be gladly used,

He places me, in a mold,

Where my imperfections will be burned,

He places me, in his forge,

And I am burned anew,

I come out, a brand new bar,

A bar of iron strong,

And I, with no imperfections,

Must be made into something to use,

The man takes, his giant hands,

And crafts me in’ a weapon,

A weapon, not made for evil,

But a weapon made for good,

An iron weapon, may be strong,

But in battle it can break,

So he, must repair me,

To make me something great,

Repairing me, with fire,

To make me battle ready,

He drowns, me in water,

To make me a stronger man,

Now, with my new coat,

Of shimmering bright new steel,

I am ready, for the battle,

The battle that could be my end,

The master, who plucked me,

From the darken depths of ground,

He has made me, brilliant steel,

That shines for all around,

boop