Senses
What is love When you do not speak of it. Will the heart reap of it? What is a mind that remain unused. Would the brain be lightly amused, by your subtle exploitation Wouldn't that make the mind a perpetrator, an abuser of preferable treatment. Who will stand up for the impaired? A senseless mind, or no other-
Who'll impeach this? .... What is the use of hands, if you can't touch others? Wouldn't that make life unpleasant, monstrous, odious, and beastly, Oh I can think of other words. I write them in my head, but my touch leaves me. What is the use of eyes? If I can't see through your heart through mines How would we be able to read into your mind, without overly overtones? It'll be a blindfolded world, yet, I think we're already acquainted with this one. What is the use of ears, when you never listen We'll miss something that seems vernacular, to an ordinary person . This brings me to the mouth that can't be satiated. We use this without hesitation. What is a mouth without unbridle truth, yet, one silenced to end, without proof. What life is without scents. From the rustic, to divine, to down olfactory An oppression of the most kind. What is a world without people? An impressionable world A world where sin is as impressionable as a young girl.... Senses are trailing at best, it leaves in moments we need to be abreast. Written By Nailah D'arcy
Written over
Moonlight Sonata, First Movement
Who'll impeach this? .... What is the use of hands, if you can't touch others? Wouldn't that make life unpleasant, monstrous, odious, and beastly, Oh I can think of other words. I write them in my head, but my touch leaves me. What is the use of eyes? If I can't see through your heart through mines How would we be able to read into your mind, without overly overtones? It'll be a blindfolded world, yet, I think we're already acquainted with this one. What is the use of ears, when you never listen We'll miss something that seems vernacular, to an ordinary person . This brings me to the mouth that can't be satiated. We use this without hesitation. What is a mouth without unbridle truth, yet, one silenced to end, without proof. What life is without scents. From the rustic, to divine, to down olfactory An oppression of the most kind. What is a world without people? An impressionable world A world where sin is as impressionable as a young girl.... Senses are trailing at best, it leaves in moments we need to be abreast. Written By Nailah D'arcy
Written over
Moonlight Sonata, First Movement
More posts from
