Aztec Centeno

Jul 2016

Edgar Allan Poe

To F—

Beloved! amid the earnest woes
  That crowd around my earthly path—
(Drear path, alas! where grows
Not even one lonely rose)—
  My soul at least a solace hath
In dreams of thee, and therein knows
An Eden of bland repose.

And thus thy memory is to me
  Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea—
Some ocean throbbing far and free
  With storm—but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually
  Just o’er that one bright inland smile.

Aztec Centeno Jul 2016

A Woman Like You

What can one admire in a woman like you?
Of flamboyance, iridescence. Such a ravishing slew!

Is it the captivating look that stuns?
Or the jovial smile that outshines a billion suns?

How can one ask for more than a woman like you?
State all reasons, I'll refute it clean through!

A mind that's colorful, possessing thoughts so powerful.
Remembering you will remove feelings so sorrowful.

So, what's left in store for a woman like you?
Will you be coming up with something anew?

So many questions, it's such a reprise.
Well, I'll stop. I don't want to spoil your surprise

Classic; this was the first one I wrote that I remember of. Forgot where I placed my High-school writings, though.

Aztec Centeno Jul 2016

Behold, A Queen.

Behold, an ethereal incarnate.
Soulful, astute, and delicate.
Her sight instills inspiration,
Her touch strokes with passion.

Callow, pure, and wholly innocent,
Inwards, she sprung, fully vehement.
With a handful of zealous volition,
And hopes to earn love and ambition.

Dazed by a benevolent trance,
She danced with pristine stance.
But, oh, so little did she know,
******* pierced like an arrow.

Lo, gone were the days of viridity.
Past was learnt, hence gained clarity.
No brand of man, no spoil of deceit,
Can cull her stead like maize and meat.

She who dons an exuberant shield,
Whose mighty foes will surely yield.
Brandished crown of newfound glory,
Behold, a Queen—hear her story.

Because nowadays, guys playing with women's feelings seems to be a visible trend. This is for the women who now knows their worth and what they truly deserve after a devastating heartbreak.

Aztec Centeno Jul 2016

On A Blue Mountain (a poem on the frustrations brought about by unrequited adoration)

On a Blue Mountain,
Is a spirit of solemn essence.
Sly, covert, instinctive, limber,
The wolf: totem of woodland timber.

Amidst this nocturne hymn,
Nature paints a nightly picture.
The celestial ceiling, outstanding.
Silver light cuts through, shining.

Treading a shadowy ambiance,
One couldn't help but notice.
Fleeting gaze; senses were stolen.
T'was the Moon: the twilight emblem.

On a Blue Mountain, perched,
Sights, unto the cosmic blanket.
Entranced by Lunar glimmer,
The wolf is left to a whimper.

Alas! Grip of morning is nigh.
The Moon, majestic, cosmic,
With impenetrable intent,
Hath no time for earthly descent.

Time is an abrupt occurrence,
The earth, it turns; time, it burns.
For the wolf, t'was sole clarity:
This brief elation is worth his sanity.

The wolf had hoped illustriously,
That he loom to newfound solace,
But can only accept in frustration,
The reality of his damnation.

Hence, on this Blue Mountain,
A final bask in adoration,
A final effort, rising to his feet,
Howling to the Moon he'll never meet.

This was my invitational piece to this website. I'd like everyone to know that I made this one with all my heart and soul (hahaha ****** emo vibes)

— The End —