Tender is the night

in which you ardently love --


what will elude you.

Panic's jewel...
Or, is that pride?
Poor relenting, to you...
The question of irony on your side?

Places and things, together
With a real appetite for life's regency
So, sophisticated, the liberty of kind to bother
An open air, of a wish that found deception's history...?

My undone mercy, my marveling hope
Is with a ghost of a chance, the truth
In a guarded fist, to promise a shared cope?
If any pout of lore, is a wish that sought your youth...

I will follow...
Despairing consciences, with a blinking stare at honor
That defies home for one thing only, that is to harrow...
The dread in a tear, found for a salt that told a story:

Once upon a time, and the tenderness of couth
To wake upon a simple bed, the taste of harmony in league
With itself, the role of unity and vice, come the riches of who
Is a part defined, and who is a smarter focus divine, of each?

Which will the tows of remorse...
Work as we said, they have the skill's of duress to laud
And heraldry of a looming proportion, to understand the worse
The life of another lords prophet, the can and the callous odd...

Here is such, the lies or levity we fate
With a rekindled fire, for what is a stranger look, of desperation
Sincerity or since charity is a fool for itself, the world of sate
Is a kindness only a lover could afford, the very gift of intimation?

Tomorrow?
And the ides of heathen politeness, are here
To simply move forward and borrow
The truth in an order and repute, that has oneself to bless, with another's fear...?

Let me get this out..


Every night, I would tell you goodnight
And that in the morning,
the sun would rise again..

   making all things, new.

I wanted those first rays  of light
to find you, still alive
You were so very much  hanging
by a thread  back then.

I am a strange, strange  man
as if you didn't already know,

But I have been gifted  with the ability
to truly save you

   (And you know it,  
   through.. and through.)

If you die..  I will take it on
as solely, my blame--
for not pushing you  harder
with everything I know,  Love can do..

It will make you hate me
as it saves  the precious life, in you.

I sit here
in the dark
lost in thoughts,
torn apart.

There is blood
on my hands
of my foes,
of my friends.

As I look at each finger,
I let memories linger.

Only blood
know my hands –
of my foes,
of my friends.

I am death,
unworthy
of your love,
your mercy.

Yet, you kiss every finger.
Your kind warmth, your breath linger.

I’m still here
in the dark,
but in you
I see light.

I Love You, my darling..
Before I sleep, I'll trade whispers with the sky
and tell the moon all about you..

Of all the anger
and hurt and pain
I am left with
Nothing but a mere memory
Nothing but two bare bodies
lost deep in understanding
each other's pieces
and muffled laughter and
glee kept hidden
as to not overthink
each carress
and fond eyes looking back
and trembling hands
touching so soft
barely there

She was good at goodbyes
And he was bad at them.
Together they were one collision away from pain.
And yet somehow when his need met hers.
There was calm inside the chaos.
He was patience incarnate.
She was unconditional love.
The two, a connection so deep.
A feeling in their souls.
That this wasn't meant to be goodbye.
But a hello that never got old.

paulSN

Don't speak directly to her--
you will melt the skin  off
  her bone-frame

Instead, find the parallel-words--

ones that will float alongside her
as she walks, so as she is able-
she can pluck them--  like
wild roses along the highway

Sometimes, love takes a
   tremendous
amount of creativity--

the name of the game is
  its destination
not the control of its path