Blog Archives

Shangri La

Alas, you have come to claim defeat,
to which there is no answer,
says the voice of troubled reason,
and thus, I leave so discontent.
I am no chummy conversationalist,
but if I were to look at you like the Goddess,
as the dawn breaks on the cusp
of a beautiful morning, with dew settling
in upon the leaves, glistening
under the light, and birds chirping
happily, singing awake the Shangri La
of Spring, would you confess
an appreciation towards these eyes,
which dance across your beauty?
Let us be honest for a moment,
in this hall of monsters, what titles
do you have which I do not,
that prevents me from touching
the curvature of your silk heart?
I hardly expect a response
from someone such as yourself,
who has been granted everything
by the grace of Godly beings,
and only now in your presence,
do I realize the foolish extreme
I have gone to, in the hopes
of calling your love my own.
But if happiness were to abound
for one decent moment, may your footprints
fall upon the path, so I can one day
follow once you have readied
yourself for my affection. If my wish
were to be granted your acceptance,
I would wait for aeons, before the realization
your love would not arrive collapsed
atop of me, and any moment afterwards
would not prove early enough
to spell an adoring future, the toxic
memories of lonesomeness
filling me with doubt, until, in your absence,
I forget the feelings I once had.
Sadly it is too late for me. Do not waste
your words or tears upon my fractured
existence, for I am already dead
inside, and no amount of kindness
will ever sympathize with the ever growing pain
of never knowing how your lips
taste upon my own.

An Ode to Memories

There will be no rebuttal
when I admit to the ghost
of Spring, which lingers
in the Summer air,
that never have I had
a memory quite like the one
of my graceful paramour
and I. Swept up upon the beach
of our unflinching admiration
for all that is perfect
and true, I was able to study,
with intimate satisfaction,
the physicality of you
and your life’s prose.
Never had I sown the seed
of romance like I did that evening,
beneath the gaze of the moon,
the two of us intertwining
a connection unlike any united before.