A tender poets locution,
Captivating my soul with sorrow remark.
Has saved myself from drowning isolation
And through our words, becomes a spark.
With sound be in stitches
Your eyes deep enrapture,
My soul is at home
With your infectious laughter.
Relief from my affliction,
Wonderful illusion finds me vulnerable.
I find peace in your reflection
This sensation; overwhelmingly desirable
But I’m not the muse behind your art
You’re poetic love rests not with me
By the end of this night we’ll continue apart
Just like we’re wistfully fated to be.
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 3:38 PM UTC
A tender poets locution,
Captivating my soul with sorrow remark.
Has saved myself from drowning isolation
And through our words, becomes a spark.
With sound be in stitches
Your eyes deep enrapture,
My soul is at home
With your infectious laughter.
Relief from my affliction,
Wonderful illusion finds me vulnerable.
I find peace in your reflection
This sensation; overwhelmingly desirable
But I’m not the muse behind your art
You’re poetic love rests not with me
By the end of this night we’ll continue apart
Just like we’re wistfully fated to be.