"These heavens drown me within your tangle
Of webbed mercy I do adore
Not I, no never had seemed embraced
By the divine language which angels pour"
~Excerpt from the poem "Unconcealed"
~
O once as seemingly a poet whose soul
Wept solely across the distance of yonder
Too unfair, unjust, his lifetime un-whole
Longed for one whose fairness was fonder
O once as seemingly a poet whose soul
Wept solely across the distance of yonder
Too unfair, unjust, his lifetime un-whole
Longed for one whose fairness was fonder
Than those who'd whisper of nothing with grace
To echo his words and guide through with heart
The bearing of life; such life there would lace
With nothing of awe to paint out in part
To echo his words and guide through with heart
The bearing of life; such life there would lace
With nothing of awe to paint out in part
Over feelings as low as the lowest of cost
With things for which he'd always adore
This man whose worth has always been lost
Gave nothing to every thought that he bore
With things for which he'd always adore
This man whose worth has always been lost
Gave nothing to every thought that he bore
One day a maiden as fair as a queen
Took way across his path where he found
To his astonishment the one who he'd seen
Within the idea of the dreams that he bound
Unto his desire on the softest of nights
What soothing expression he saw in her eyes
And with this moment he found in new heights
An end to every ounce of his cries
So quite thereafter in dwelling he took
His quill to engrave with ink into ode
A gesture of love in his poetry book
To claim it was she that heaven bestowed
A surge of worldly affection through naught
Which flowed through him in every mere aim
To win this creature who captured his thought
His heart, his soul which now burn as flame
What mad enrichment it was when they met
So righteous, so pure; O this lies in fate
Life grants the poet no moment to fret
When all with love and feeling create
Such wonder in splendor, what deepened mystique
She impressed and laid upon him so fair
Granting angels a voice for she would bespeak
Of how the gesture he made was so rare
For she'd once known a pain that revealed
To her a loneliness which caused her to weep
So here the poet who remarkably sealed
In the poem a love she'd tenderly keep
Would not give chance to any who dared
To cross her path with intention of harm
For he would die if ever she flared
and ceased to where no beauty would charm
Their years and years of undying in love
Set no limit to wherever they've gone
This poet, his queen for always thereof
A passion that mirrors the heavenly dawn
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