deepundergroundpoetry.com
Changing to the same beginning
Sometimes you are nothing more than a memory;
All I yearn for, is to love you here with me,
Indulging in each others energy,
Absorbing in each others intricate psyche
Is that a fallacy? supposedly, undeniably, regrettably.
God never seems to answer me about the latter enquiry.
From here for ever on,
I just want to hold on strong;
Have you and me imbedded forever in the stars
As constant and as unchanging as the universe it’s self;
Held in the elegant beauty of infinity,
Forever and eternity.
Such sensitive and suitable silence I speak,
Though tense splinters are my answer,
For I am like the rock and you are like the weather,
Hailing down on an ever shrinking cliff face,
But like the sands that once existed as mountains,
Natures cycle will reiterate the once existing.
The moon smiles down praise upon our supple bodies,
Your face lights up the dark brighter than the feeble moon.
Your eyes are little seas of tranquillity washing over me,
Yet these are vulnerable eyes, ones that tell no lies,
Eyes that I can read as freely as a book of great appeal.
I struggle in the task of my own souls ablution,
Nothing I try can find an absolution,
Perhaps one soul can suffer too much pollution,
I’ll chase salutation for that mercurial solution.
All I yearn for, is to love you here with me,
Indulging in each others energy,
Absorbing in each others intricate psyche
Is that a fallacy? supposedly, undeniably, regrettably.
God never seems to answer me about the latter enquiry.
From here for ever on,
I just want to hold on strong;
Have you and me imbedded forever in the stars
As constant and as unchanging as the universe it’s self;
Held in the elegant beauty of infinity,
Forever and eternity.
Such sensitive and suitable silence I speak,
Though tense splinters are my answer,
For I am like the rock and you are like the weather,
Hailing down on an ever shrinking cliff face,
But like the sands that once existed as mountains,
Natures cycle will reiterate the once existing.
The moon smiles down praise upon our supple bodies,
Your face lights up the dark brighter than the feeble moon.
Your eyes are little seas of tranquillity washing over me,
Yet these are vulnerable eyes, ones that tell no lies,
Eyes that I can read as freely as a book of great appeal.
I struggle in the task of my own souls ablution,
Nothing I try can find an absolution,
Perhaps one soul can suffer too much pollution,
I’ll chase salutation for that mercurial solution.
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