DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

Wither

Member since 2001 · Posted 16 Mar 2002 · 5 comments

I?m at a loss of drunken motion, Tasting pillowed lips? potion. Taking on a whole new light of fear, When you are there, I am near. Lay your hand upon my withered head. Brush away my loneliness. Turn my water into wine. Let us drink away this ignorance. One more time ? Open my mind by turning the key. One more touch ? Dying with quivering ecstasy.

Rate it

0 is the worst, 10 the best. Pick a number, add a comment if you like, then send it. Keys: 0–9 pick, Enter sends.

mean 5.65 weighted 5.65 rank 2128 views 191 View voting details →

54 votes so far. Yours would make 55.54 votes so far

5 comments

[0] anonymous 11-Jun-01/8:02 AM Reply

I like it as lyrics, but don't quite see it standing on its own without complex music running all around it. Perhaps it's just too short to fill me with a comprehensive image? Or my imagination is lacking...

[0] anonymous 16-Jun-01/1:11 PM Reply

why the two couplets at the beginning, then free form for the rest? I don't see the significance.

[n/a] T. Becquerel 16-Mar-02/1:21 AM Reply

Ouch...

[0] anonymous 21-Aug-01/11:55 AM Reply

this is beautiful. :) I'm curious -- is this drug or woman? and if drug, which? I could pick a few, but if you had one in mind that would be nifty. :)

[7] -=SeTTle=- 16-Jul-02/10:12 PM Reply

008 was an asshole. He doublecrossed 007.