Wouldn’t you like to know, the kind of dreams we could have
been — beneath the depths of the sea; cherished hopes drifting
away, swallowed by the relentless tide of time, as we strain to
glimpse the farthest reaches of eternity?

As tears cascade like a territorial downpour, your mind unravels,
as you lose the mind to all your ideas. You yearn for a peace that
brings you to your knees, a surrender so profound it echoes in
the silence.

With your eyes shut tight, you invite your heart to unveil its truths,
allowing your innermost feelings to emerge, unshackled and raw.
Yet here I stand, feeling unworthy of love’s embrace, grappling
with the remnants of healing from the scars it has left behind.

I’m trapped in a dream that's impaired – both lovely and blind.
An uncanny Eden, where beauty and confinement intertwine
in a haunting embrace.

What little of you, bound by sacred oaths — we find two
spirits, familiar with the gales that lift us toward our
aspirations.

Do we not yearn for shared laughter, as the key for
equal peace?

This laughing note to our mutual harmony?

A melody of joy that ought to resonate, yet is drowned out
by the cacophony of man's war cries, throwing us off our
intended pitch.

Where have the noble minstrels gone, strumming a melody
to caress our beat souls—to exquisite listeners?

While the architects of unjust conflicts gaze down upon the
turmoil, their hearts untouched, as everything we cherish
slips away into the chasm.

To fall in love, I sense no perfect hour,  
Yet breaking hearts can feel like a shower.  
When love stops it’s rain- to fade,  
It's a painful cascade,  
Leaving sorrow where once bloomed a flower.

In these realms where your gaze lingers, they lie still,
like moss upon ancient seats—what minds dare to welcome
the defeat of a heart, or a soul that invents sweetness?

As her gown unfurls, caressed by the winds of passion,
oh, the trance of a lover newly discovered! Their skins meld
into one, basking in the bliss of a honeymoon beneath the
tender glow of their first moons after their wedding night.

Does time not twist and turn, restless only for those
who toss and turn each night- restless; stranded on the wrong
side of rest? Yet, a new day must grace our faces with its luscious
cherry lips, refusing to relent in casting a foolish brightness
upon our kind, igniting our eyes with its relentless glow.

Oh, would you not yearn to be the lover of the sun; to reflect
its anguish through a pure, innocent light? Your form shrouded
by the gown of clouds, oh sweet beloved—what joy it is to behold
you as you truly are, unadorned this night!

Our eyes, resemble still marble statues—both melancholic and
beautiful; they reflect the aspirations of birds yearning for an idyllic
sanctuary among the trees. The essence of our humanity aches for
wholeness, a desire to be a complete poem, even as the poet grapples
with solitude in their musings.

Burdened by their own dream's illusion, they don the mask of
the present, to linger in this moment, haunted by the shadows of
yesteryears and anxious about a future that remains unwritten to
our eyes. Thus, our eyes remain ensnared, confined to the now,
perceiving only what is before us, while the shadows of our history continue to linger in the background.

We may claim to act as deities, yet we are merely incomplete gods.
Forever yearning for what we cannot grasp.

Sinking into your shadow – a stranger in this place. As the ink
smudged upon your lips; leaves your voice spellbound, those words
caught in a storm within your throat. These torrent of emotions
surging in my heart, resembles rain drumming upon the pavement –
frigid as a stone adrift in the river's relentless current; it ****** my
skin like a thorn.  

Yet, the flicker of our love's promise remains, a distant glimmer,
a beacon in the vast expanse of night.

In a garden where red flags do love to sway,  
Our pink eyes instead see beauty, but not the fray.  
Though the mix of colour are rose’s gleam,  
The thorns are hidden in a deeper scheme,  
And the sharpness can lead two hearts astray.