well, i just realized i have some old poetic pieces i wrote a long(or not so long) time ago lying around, so i'll just post them now:
As I sit here with my pen.
As nothing comes to mind.
My eyes are ever seeing,
Yet I'm as always blind.
Discourse, Glamour -
They're all the same.
Ami, Amor -
Two words as meaningless as names.
"For you I love,
"For you I live"
"For you I lust"
"For you I think"
But after all is through he'll cry:
"For you I cry"
"For you I die"
userdan Community Member 
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