Seems an attractive
imagination
would give reason
such is the
enticing nature
of a starlit
night
those delightful passions
come to life
in our own quiet
solitude
such should share
a modest proposal
drawn in
our own perceptions
of sensuality.
Yet, there is a memory
of that time,
a time,
a dream,
some serene exterior
allowed
our internal
magic
to find
yes this formality in
love
we live in seclusion.
a place one venue
only to know about you
silent aura blue
Remember the first time
so cute,
so in your eyes
in our mind,
in the center of our being
we wanted
we wished to share
to be reciprocated
in our passions.
That one time
she kissed him
drew him into her hand
he is lost now
waiting for her to take control
his lips finding every region
of her passion
in order
increase her gasps
to insure her grasp.
One day
awaken to reality
the eyes of now
a knowledge
being swept under
in the grace of her intellect
her charm, her elegance
her everything
cause the mind to let go
give her your world
and discover truly
this love
One day we might know
this cannot be forever.
The idea of strength
lost on many
sallow sadness
instead
a perception being
held
without reason
just led
by perhaps
tears inside a river
discerning an
abyss of loneliness.
Why hold on
rather
disappear so he
might not be able
find
his sojourn then
quiet recovery
a grasp
a painful plea
still those metaphor
confuse love
with material
are drawn by reason
only his not hers.
For truth is inherent
allows self awareness
not pity yet sweet
compassion
burden is less
yet so difficult
is to understand
a value
what we believe
to be real
not a fantasy
the matter of knowing
this energy we feel
never falter
only found
our center
exists today
gentle our touch
while I believe
To find the truth
we might falter
knowing our lives
are built as a soldier
would on the lines
decide his life
is worthy of sacrifice.
Every moment he knew
a flashback we say
PTSD
a diagnosis for him.
This design
such is scrutiny
meant to ruin our lives
balk at happiness.
I wandered into love
only to realize
this desine, this circumstance
might be meant for chance.
Still up in the sky
wandering the clouds
certainly now would I
be the first to fall
stumbling shattered shrouds.
While walking streets tall
looming lives lingering
across miles of fantasy all
holding lives in time
we wander without ending
Thinking sometimes love a crime
we haven’t any way
to estimate truly a sublime
delight upon passion is wed
though only mystique remain today.
Is it the truth we might somehow dread
the body physical – sensuality so misled.
Downfall of passion
the notion of why
without the question
remains an option
to love, to steal, to bargain
to desire, to suggest, to cherish
if only we had the time
to rewrite the script of our lives.
Would remember be allowed,
the memory behind
the love two people
blend into a quiet reality.
Only anticipating beauty
will always leave the heart in smile.
I cannot guess,
though the thought occurs,
I’d like to know,
yet I am left inside my mind,
a wanton desire,
inside this world a yearn
to find a seer
might bring her spirit near.
I walked around tonight
inside a world of windows
wondering about
the people, each other’s lives
the purpose inside
their own regard.
I couldn’t answer
any questions anymore.
I walked outside and felt the rain
same as everywhere,
the tears of summer.
I wondered
about romantics in the breeze
might they feel and yearn
the same, reminders
of what is love in our world.
I walked inside again sad face
there wasn’t magic in my pace.
 | a quiet man on The Moment We Touch |
| a quiet man on Why Proof? |
 | liyonadancer100 on Why Proof? |
| liyonadancer100 on The Moment We Touch |
| a quiet man on The Purpose of Confidence |
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