The Un explained Feeling Of A Love Story.
The Un explained Feeling Of A Love Story.
The meeting
My life meaningless, with out her
heart beating from in her breast…
Forsaken stress, the reason my
souls distressed weeping from chest…
The very apparition of life, lies in
her eyes thus lighting mine alike.
She was distressed, blessed with
beauty leathered in a weathered red dress…
As she approached I noticed,
the elegance that was ever
evident, a realised…As I see
her eyes, she was a wondering
star endeavoured with-in stormy skies…
Hard times, was clear, fresh,
in a mesh of subtle life less,
resided in her life yes…
I thought to myself, as I
placed a my hand in her grasp,
as to welcome her past…
I gently asked, why are you
eyes tinted with a haze, a
shade a pain, as she wept...
I held in my clasp as she
gasped and retracted her step,
closer she came closer…
A vivid image of a sedative
Smile, upon loves painted poster
Upon the final moment of depart
a number exchanged, to palm…
Calm yet seductive embrace,
a silent charm of femme fatals face…
The intricate thoughts provoked
that night, of clarity bright
on that mind flight
Aroused my attention to
relentlessly make contact,
surely it would feel right ?
First date
Led away by A heart of stone,
or as it seemed tantalised
by distorted dreams away
Life is a mere dream, a fleeting shadow on a
cloudy day, as I loudly unfold
The silence was a blood-curdling scream
Of anguish, set out to break my soul
Suddenly, silence broke
Laughter of tension was spoke…
Entrapped in each other eyes
As a smile slowly awoke
Cloaked, masked in fate
Wine surrendered to the cup
The sculpting of our first date.
3 years down the line
Apple of my eye, wine bleeds dry…
Cries as apathy whispers it’s last goodbye
Engulfed in love of another,
She leaves her coat hindering on the floor…
I wince perilously as she greats
A meeting with the wood chipped door…
Redundant to falcate, rotation of
Pondering hearts awaiting tomorrow…
As I fell to the floor, hand held my
Heart full of borrowed sorrow
Fatigue in my motion of commotion,
I lay curled in a whirl of pain…
As tender lacks slender, my eyes began
To uncontroably rain, pain
Caught up in emotion though lost
In the sands of time does gather…
But would I rather, die alone or paint a canvas
In which I sit high on an alumni throne
Divorced of-course from horse drawn carriage…
The vital, final, spinal tearing
Serronades a failure in marriage.
