“There is a place for us in the enclaves afore,
Where the blackbirds sing and flowers bloom,
As our love propagates and creates our passions,
And our allot filled longing of embracing,

We have always reaffirmed to be with each other,  
When I am alone that is my only breach,
A breach of passion love and scent of your body,
Futurity without you would be altruism of sorrows,

Cognizance of her near acquittal of my flaming ardor,  
Nothing to regret as we long to hold each other,
Surely in the eyes of others there more alluring,
Or in the eyes of others more captivating than thee,

In my eyes and throughout my life you are my aristocracy,
A symbolic meaning of true love within ones heart,
This I share within humanity my heart and soul,
Entire gratification is the crapulence of my love,

Being isolated with her and her alone,
I was lost into the tenderness of her eyes,
I believe a fiery passion will exist in our tombs,
My sonnet is added with laments of laconism,

In end we will be on two estuaries of different paths,
As I feel the sound of the stream pulsate in my torso
I chose the lonely one which will make for asceticism,”

By A. Guzaldo 06/29/2018 ©


By A. Guzaldo 06/29/2018 ©