I am dying, dying     
       regret I've none       
       flowers are still dancing     
       under the glorious sun
           

        I am dying, dying  
       to a new beginning           
        celestial music is playing     
       I'll still be listening

In a forest,
a young girl and
a man
stroll,
taking in the beauty of nature.

Atop a fallen tree,
they share a tender kiss
and touch,
a moment sweet and meant to be savoured.

She had never felt
so loved and
he was just
happy
to corrupt her innocence.

He was too old
and she too young,
so when she had her doubts,
He took the opportunity to prey on
another
more vulnerable
victim.

The troubled mind
seeks boundless words
for eccentricity.

You grab the hidden
kiss. Give me the smile
of a mooned heart.

At dusk you will talk
with eyes, trembling hands
igniting dry tips.

Life doesn't speak
it knows not how
lest it were to displease
with no favours to endow

it's not our duty
not then, not now
to coax or chide
to none would it bow

Tend it, do tend it well
  with fulness of heart--every cherished idea
  the shredding of the impatient years
  would not cause it to fade or wither-

  love and beauty shall endure
  past scenes of delight they'd remember
  dreams and hopes they would gather
  into a bouquet---in every rapture and grandeur.