He saw the world in black and white,
but I saw gray.
Landscapes of color,
a myriad of dreams -
Obscured by hazed and crooked lines.
A river raged,
my feet were wet before you
Asked me to cross.
Sun comes out, brings answers
You stand in the moon's shadow,
I stand in the light.
Daddy's Little Girl
Verse 1:
The thund'ring harshness of his words
Echo in her ears
The cruel contortion of his face is
Burned into her fragile mind
The taste of blood's upon her lips
From a smack across her innocent face
The rancid stench of alcohol
Remains searing in her nose.
Bridge:
If this is his love
She'd not wanna see his hate
If this is all her life'll be
Then for death, she just can't wait
Chorus:
She can't call herself his anymore
All of his love flitted out the door
All he does is hurt her
Cause her endless pain
She tries to maintain that same old facade --
It's gone...
She's not Daddy's little girl...anymore
Sean leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh, clasping a hand over his eyes as if to obscure the sleeping form of Gayle from his view. It didn't seem like long ago that they'd met – it had, in fact, been almost seven years now. Hart permitted himself a wan smile as he lost himself fondly in recollection.
"I remember when yeh first met," he mused to himself with a quiet laugh. "Captain didn't quite know what ta make of yeh, did he, Shep?" It was true. They had met her on the streets, not long after London had been attacked by the Kaltari. She was a feisty, angry young woman who was terrified for her life and her survival. She'd appeared o
* * *
It had been a week since Liam had left. The lingering scent of his cologne and aftershave, the feel of his large, calloused hands running down her arms, were beginning to fade from Gayle's memory. His eyes, though – beautiful and blue – she could never forget.
She stared out the window of her bedroom which was on the third floor of the base. The mission statement said that he should have returned yesterday – they'd lost contact sometime yesterday morning. Gayle had not left her vigil since then. She stared out at the decimated spires of London's buildings, throat tight with the effort of holding everything in. She was so exhauste
"Shepherd? 'Ey Shep, where are yeh?"
Gayle adjusted her ear piece and pressed the hardened foam more snugly into her ear when she heard Sean Hart's rumbling baritone, thickly laden with his Irish accent, speak her fieldname. Keeping her voice low as she peered over the barricade, she mumbled, "Relax, Wolf. I'm here."
"Where?"
"Behind post C."
"Hold on, I'll be right over there." Gayle's lips parted to speak her assent; she froze, crouching lower behind the piled bags of sand.
"No, Wolf. Hold your position. I see something." Gayle hefted her gun, resting it carefully atop the barricade, and peered through the scope mounted on top
I want to kiss
Your lips but
You turn your head from me
In shame and
Refuse to meet
My eyes.
I want to hold
You close and
Fight away all of
Your fears but
You won't let me see the
Real you.
I want to tell you
It's okay but
My words have
Little weight and
You are so afraid to
Hear them.
Just let me understand
You love and
Let me see your passioned
Eyes of deep and golden
Amber.
Let me know your
Thoughts dear heart and
Let me hear your caring
Voice which speaks to me of
Love.
I want to be near
To you, dear
To you, but
You are still afraid --
Of me?
You're scared of what I
Might see and
Eventually come
My Ballerina
Dance to the sun
My angel, my heart
Let the world see your sweet smile.
Dance to the moon
My beloved swan
Show them your unrivaled majesty.
Dance o'er water
My entrancing siren
Give the world a rhapsody.
Dance through the flames
My strength, my inspiration
Prove to the world your passion.
Untitled
Point.
Step.
Point.
Twirl.
Majesty and
Grace
Portrayed with
Just a simple
Dance.