In The Muck: A Collection of Anagrams

What A Feeling, So Warm And Pure

Why does one approach the Sun?

Hark, the birds that sing together with ease.

A single petal drop is worth listening to in the presence of love.

Tenderness is wasted if such lust is unreturned,

And all the smiling masks are but shadows.

For love is something not easily dissuaded by higher power.

Even when on bruised knees,

Even in the presence of unspeakable horror,

Love is a future unchanged by mortality.

In its simplest form, it is still such a power to be upheld by those in its grasp.

Nothing can sway the lovesick mind of something so strong, that

God itself can be beaten by it.

So what is the fear behind total submission?

Open such a lively and spirited heart as yours to complete and utter devotion.

Why is one drawn to the Moon?

Are moonbeams as invertly warming as the mere thought of a second in your arms?

Real life fades in the reflection you've cast, and

My demons convulse in the sea of a promise so easily broken.

All things aside, my love is unbound.

Not a being so true can bring it down.

Dead limbs drop each time I reach for your love and miss.

Perhaps, this love is fabricated from something less pungent.

Understand that when a man is presented such a lust as this, he is easily driven to madness.

Realize that no amount of time can bring about a stronger or lesser feeling than what I heed deep in my youthful bones.

Every husk in the soil wishes to drag me away from such a world that you've given me.