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The writer who breeds more words than he needs is making a chore for the reader who reads

	Love
	Love


Hating love, And freezing flame, Flightless dove, And unknown fame, An empty hole, An aching need, A bleeding sole, An unheard plead. Love is patient ever waiting. Love is kind enough to come and go. Love is everlasting always hurting. It does not boast of all its crime. It does not rejoice in wrong doing. It tears your sole besides. Love is close to the fine line of hating. Love is petty spitefully low. Love is tempting always flirting. Love is there throughout all time. Love’s sharp teeth on your heart are chewing. Love is made of evil lies. Moire nan Aingeal · Sat Feb 07, 2015 @ 08:57pm · 0 Comments

	War drums
	War drums


Whispered words and whimpered pleas Fingers gliding gently Along flushed skin, ever soft Gasping breaths, all words lost Our bodies pounding the war drum song Teasing touches, the pleasure prolong Beating, breathing, like a horses herd Vision fades, the world is blurred Lips on lips and grinding hips Panting breaths and clutching grips Scratches red across your back On my a a playful smack Blinding pleasure into a frenzy send The war drum song has reached the end Moire nan Aingeal** · Sat Feb 07, 2015 @ 08:54pm · 0 Comments


Moire nan Aingeal Community Member « Prev Set \| Next Set » Archive \| Home 02/08/15 to 02/01/15 (2) 08/05/12 to 07/29/12 (3)

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