What am I, but a fool for your love,
standing on the ground on my knees, worshipping you,
your holy words, they make me see,
my darling,
through me you seethe.
I am your sword,
your, pen, your shield,
your savior through the darkness as you are mine,
sweet lies fill the air, smelling of candy and wine.
What defines a fool?
Is it I, in your presence?
Or you, that thinks me foolish enough, ignorant.
Perhaps it is the both of us, lying to ourselves.
The stars in the sky could not shine upon us,
yet we live in the night,
the silent breezes and pink flowers,
of freezing snowflakes on my skin
my guardian of life, I lay down for you,
pierce me with your words,
let me pray with my dying last breath,
that a fool for your dangerous love shall only be me.
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetics
Randomaesthete /ˈiːsθiːt,ˈɛsθiːt/ noun a person who is appreciative of and sensitive to art and beauty. a collection of my poems of all genres, from heartbreak to first love, from cherry blossoms to hot summer evenings at the beach. I hope you enjoy
