in my
fragility
i often bereft my very breath of life
of all the wonderment left by dreams--
induce myself
into a tragic, tragic beauty
echoing my heart's sheer deservings
immortal tracings of longing
somehow aurify the crevices left in my soul
by all i have ever known simply
to versify their very essence
to the surface of each willing page
i sense far more in only
the most romantic of poets:
days of yore when the Promethean bard
[Shelly] crossed in his own self
the fine line between heaven and earth,
Keats with his melancholic breathlessness still rests
deeply within my heart;
oh, how they remain my unsurpassed favorites
and so, you see
i am but a humble man whose been bred
completely in the pulsating depth
of poetry
may i pertain to this
forevermore.
i often bereft my very breath of life
of all the wonderment left by dreams--
induce myself
into a tragic, tragic beauty
echoing my heart's sheer deservings
immortal tracings of longing
somehow aurify the crevices left in my soul
by all i have ever known simply
to versify their very essence
to the surface of each willing page
i sense far more in only
the most romantic of poets:
days of yore when the Promethean bard
[Shelly] crossed in his own self
the fine line between heaven and earth,
Keats with his melancholic breathlessness still rests
deeply within my heart;
oh, how they remain my unsurpassed favorites
and so, you see
i am but a humble man whose been bred
completely in the pulsating depth
of poetry
may i pertain to this
forevermore.
Popular Posts
-
from this there seems to be no escape as I sense an angel whose beauty unveils my heart and while her essence molds the reaping of ...
-
Within the beauty by a scented candle Marvels the dream that heaven consumes To touch an infant and form his sweet so...
-
i'll hold you as my valentine for you are so much more than dreams that kindle deep and true it's you whom i adore i will take ch... -
please tell me am i crazy for thinking that i'm wrong when the things that i would say would always lead you on do you think i...
-
o farewell belovéd mother i pray that you can see as angels lead you through those gates just what you mean to m...
-
beyond grave sites that once called my name and eerie whispers had kept me so in direction of the very baring of a cross unveiled through ...
-
a dance through a mossy dream ignited on a penetrating night so much so that its embrace (unclothed in spectacular shapes) ... -
i would burn high fire from the depth of this while all the while in the midnight cold that fire that burns to my ...
-
This is for the melody not felt nor yet heard Through the wind to drift the track of someone's dying words Not one blues man nor mu...
.png "English"){kind=small}
No comments:
Post a Comment