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Living a dream: My Valentines

I slept on reality,
suddenly her demeanor woke my eyes resting on her sheening tapestry when her art of beauty poisoned my iris with open arms; scoulding colours of appreciation.

Her gesture of silver smiles paralysed the vains of my sanity, invading the pit of doubt till tranquility filled the rest of me with notes of love—as celestial droplets metronomes showered my innocence.

As she made way towards me, lethargy held me still, dead trapped in silence, frozen by her garrulous face that said everything without puking a word in her shadow.

Approaching with the sailing wind in the raging storm of lucucious steps. Every foot taken, slice opened her perfection, incarnation frame whispering her story till I figured something about her.

If her beauty was a sword, she'd struck open the sky till heavens bled angels to kneel before her perfection worshiping the outline of her deity image.

Fell inlove with her, now my heart is soaking swollen, swimming in a paradise of affectionate oceans, emotions sinking—quick sands swallowing my all in.

So rather I gazed at her
Saw her in my future, rising to over-come the mountains of our struggle incase time separates thee hooked fingers on a duck's foot.

Her nails, nailed by God; he must've been in a mood when he created her.
Her arms, armed by her Mother; she must've been in a groove when she mad her.
Her cabinet of curves, curved flawlessly, craftmanship of an African architect.

Love flooding my chest, demanding I tell her 'three words' this demon is attempting to be freed from.

As she came past the threshold of my presence, beyond the potch of my welcoming aura..

Suddenly...knock knock!
My beautiful niece knocked at my door....So I woke up from a dream I was living. Gone is my Valentines with the night.. :(

Expect the unexpected. Hope you enjoyed the poem. Happy Valentines :)
Blur images, convicted in clear depiction of complex matrix within scents of distorted resolution.

Savour peace in dead silence beneath glades of mistakes hatching experience in the midst of thin air.

Lost interest in frame works and found passion residing beside a sculpture, where I could glance at a bigger picture over fractions of moments.

I think; where will I be ten years from now? just to see doubt reflect the past, leaving the present in comforts of distress, life glued to the same cycle showering shame beyond hindsight of the water vapour.

Lend me a magic spell! I shout; to see a tornished, drone voice picking up its pieces where its echo refused feedback over pity that fell.
Tears dancing on the verge of my cheeks while I whisper a whistle with broken notes embracing smiles exhibiting shattered hearts.

Crosteque parallel edges linger at the fore-front, where I rest my arid eyes with samples of blood.

Longing for a conversation with an old man, with merciless intentions of stealing his wisdom under the surveillance of his novel, watchful eye.

All alone, however. Thinking of tomorrow, because with the present I've became a slave launching sparkles of doubt...I hope for a better tomorrow - Being alive is a sign of winning against a staircase of sorrow.

I hope for a better tomorrow, smiling yet again pleasing faith to dry my tears...Thanking God for another day he had to borrow.
Reminiscing about once upon a time
Once in a while; Trying to mend a broken heart decorated with razor blades of separation

Under the paragon guidance of the blue-sky, we used to trade smiles
With a sweet conversation, that used to usher us for miles

Happiness diluted by shyness.
Refraining feelings from showing until deeds began exposing

Like a soul going to heaven time has departed me from a body that used to be a part of me
Cursed with your angelic memories
Slaved me into a dugeon of sad insecurities

I thought I was inlove, but sadly I was just growing up
However, now I'm grown-up, how does it happen that I still feel love?

Like a baby, once upon a time I felt secure melting inside the premises of your warm touch
Now the thought of you registers an ordeal
strike of pain to my heart.

Not listening is a disease, that has left me suffering from the effects of tormenting consequences; I wish I listened to my heart - 'impregnant her'...reinforce the teem of limitations, to engage a permanent connection to her.

Reminiscing about once upon a time
Once in a while; All it took was a split-sec to loose you between short spaces of time.

Time...

— The End —