That feeling now holds me tight to the ground,
who else would know of the scent of fall
and melancholy flower sprouting in my soul,
who else but you, darling,
and the cobalt, magenta, ochre of the sky...
I wish tonight,
I could see you sitting on our senescent bench,
who else could arrange such majestic reveries,
who else but the hearts of divine beings...
In the influxes of the silver stream, the voices are heard,
the heaven loves us and will join us, I know,
the touch of the cold we do not feel,
even as the snow of winter is near,
we burn embraced in each other's dreams...
Bizarre illusion, battered heart,
I'm still alone on the senescent bench,
encompassed by madness and scent of the fall,
timelessly waiting as a hazardous thought,
for that marvelous day...
YOU ARE READING
Breathe
Poetry❝ in her mind she held an incadencent thoughts for the world and an immense desire to breathe them out with each word ❞ Welcome to the place where my words and emotions meet. Random thoughts and feelings of mine, molded with patience into a tangibl...
