Here's a couple of yammerings I wrote long ago.
Poem: Written 6/16/96
"A Place"
There is a place, a sanctum sanctorum, where every being belongs. A warm envelope of peace with an address singular and personal. A womb in the afterlife, where every soul is reborn unto the bosom of the heavens and, in the apex of serenity, suckles life itself. A table in an ethereal restaurant with reservations for one, awaiting one.
Kriston Preston
Poem: Written 6/15/96
"Witch"
Witch!
How you've cast your spell.
Pandoran powers of deceit.
You control, you conjure, you conquer.
You hypnotize with beauty and punish with pallor.
You lead the weak to exhaustion with a gentle finger to the chin.
You infect the pure with thoughts of impurity and give needs you will never satiate.
You drain the lives of fools and smile...
Smile...
You witch...
I love you.
Kriston Preston
Poem: Written 6/16/96
"A Place"
There is a place, a sanctum sanctorum, where every being belongs. A warm envelope of peace with an address singular and personal. A womb in the afterlife, where every soul is reborn unto the bosom of the heavens and, in the apex of serenity, suckles life itself. A table in an ethereal restaurant with reservations for one, awaiting one.
Kriston Preston
Poem: Written 6/15/96
"Witch"
Witch!
How you've cast your spell.
Pandoran powers of deceit.
You control, you conjure, you conquer.
You hypnotize with beauty and punish with pallor.
You lead the weak to exhaustion with a gentle finger to the chin.
You infect the pure with thoughts of impurity and give needs you will never satiate.
You drain the lives of fools and smile...
Smile...
You witch...
I love you.
Kriston Preston
vandam:
