“May I rest again with her in my chimera of the night?
My pain of such love will subside with my reverie,
Fervor and despair seem to endeavor pertinent restlessness,
Night procures a mystical quintessence to the heart and soul,
Exotic to me are all the rationale as to why you belong,
Comatose of you beside me whether in body or soul,
May music once again make my eviscerated soul dance?
Only you will live in my dreams as they drift me away,
All that is reticent in life and in our annals of time as one,
We shall go over the water of time in the shadows of travel,
As we travel through the shadows with neither sun or moon,
An unholy anointing of our least desirable possessions,
At night the world the wind will spin out their destiny,
The seclusion of mountain peaks veers ever so slightly,
Mountain peaks where alleviation is all that is heard,
Empty trees conveyed acclivous and less oceans of brine,
My soul seeks solitude and the mystical perplexity of aspiration,
Space stars poetry in this place the moon and ebony vapors,
These are the copious words of a poet has lost love of soul,
I can only caress the thought of her in my acclivious dreams”
By Andrew Guzaldo 1/09/2019 ©
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
“May I rest again with her in my chimera of the night?
My pain of such love will subside with my reverie,
Fervor and despair seem to endeavor pertinent restlessness,
Night procures a mystical quintessence to the heart and soul,
Exotic to me are all the rationale as to why you belong,
Comatose of you beside me whether in body or soul,
May music once again make my eviscerated soul dance?
Only you will live in my dreams as they drift me away,
All that is reticent in life and in our annals of time as one,
We shall go over the water of time in the shadows of travel,
As we travel through the shadows with neither sun or moon,
An unholy anointing of our least desirable possessions,
At night the world the wind will spin out their destiny,
The seclusion of mountain peaks veers ever so slightly,
Mountain peaks where alleviation is all that is heard,
Empty trees conveyed acclivous and less oceans of brine,
My soul seeks solitude and the mystical perplexity of aspiration,
Space stars poetry in this place the moon and ebony vapors,
These are the copious words of a poet has lost love of soul,
I can only caress the thought of her in my acclivious dreams”
By Andrew Guzaldo 1/09/2019 ©
By Andrew Guzaldo 1/09/2019 © #Poem#151 TY Hello Poetry
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