I sat there alone, prisoned in poetry

Scripting verses of melancholy

Then my eyes stumbled upon a soul

Sitting empty in idleness

Looking at the screen and ceiling.

I attempted to perceive her face

From the pattern of her hair and the design

Of her skin but blurred was my vision

Until she turned to reveal

Her beautiful face possessing a smile

That’s seductive for it seduced me

To smile from the frown my face held

And the gentle wave of her soft hands

Was graceful enough to inspire me

To compose for her, this poem

I stab the heart of darkness
And turn the blade leisurely slow.
The blade plunged in black blood.
The pale skin of blindness,
I wash with a colorful glow,
And bathe it in a gentle scud.

I choke the throat of sorrow
With bare hands of absolute  rapture.
Its wheezes make a symphony.
And pour beauty in morrow
For my eyes to adoringly capture
The yawps in a revel ceremony.

On the corrupted soul of sadness
I paint hues of brief blisses
But so pristine that it blushes
As I cleanse the spirit with happiness
I cover her with sweet kisses
So lovely that it brings in rushes

I cherish the death of all ugliness
And reminisce the cold miserable days
Enclosed by dirt, filth and lust
I lose myself in the ecstatic liveliness
Of altruistic pruriency's welcomed stays
Wrapped in benign love and its trust

My saviour, love, I mumble a prayer
For your vigour and ****** heart
Unbleached mind and smile's delight
Through this poesy I present a layer
Of gratitude for my journey's start,
With your soft touch, of life and light.

since that destined afternoon

when we met, I've failed at every attempt

to script a poem for you

for whenever I drew your portrait in my

palace of conception, it always was

amorphous and white for unrevealed

was what shall light the fire of muse

but last mighttide I poured in

colours and paints I conceived

from our short colloquy.

i saw strange shades

that laign with mine fortuitously

and I crave to see the colors and their shades

that sit quietly, unknown to me.

do not doubt these verses and even

though they intend to smear flattery, I

script no colourless lies when I say

in the world, you're the only poem in flesh.