deepundergroundpoetry.com
Going Left..........
4 days
crossing hot, desert sands
parched and burned
I thirst
perched upon a stone oasis
beneath a green palm,
is it real
or a mirage
Is there truly
cause for alarm?
Speaking to an apparition
holding the key , unlocking the partition
It's getting way too dark to see
I fear it might be just
a little too late for me
fading fast, wondering if
these dry bones can ever live again?
soft drops of Jupiter fall down
upon my lips, in the distant light,
I hear you call me “friend”.......
…..Fulfillingness' First Finale
maybe I'm amazed at the way
that you always find away
to save
27 2 30 2 three
feeling you
in my libra soul
an empath's perfect plea
to behold
It is “so amazing”
the way you sense
my longing and distress
always finding
a way
2 save this
heartless, broken mess
….do you "still" love me?
crossing hot, desert sands
parched and burned
I thirst
perched upon a stone oasis
beneath a green palm,
is it real
or a mirage
Is there truly
cause for alarm?
Speaking to an apparition
holding the key , unlocking the partition
It's getting way too dark to see
I fear it might be just
a little too late for me
fading fast, wondering if
these dry bones can ever live again?
soft drops of Jupiter fall down
upon my lips, in the distant light,
I hear you call me “friend”.......
…..Fulfillingness' First Finale
maybe I'm amazed at the way
that you always find away
to save
27 2 30 2 three
feeling you
in my libra soul
an empath's perfect plea
to behold
It is “so amazing”
the way you sense
my longing and distress
always finding
a way
2 save this
heartless, broken mess
….do you "still" love me?
Published 17th Sep 2019
Author's Note
......this is such an amalgam. These words flow in such a simple form. The attempt convey the way I feel. It should be so clear........."do you still love me?"
(R.I.P. Ric Ocasek March 23, 1944 – September 15, 2019) "Who's gonna' drive you home tonight?"
(R.I.P. Ric Ocasek March 23, 1944 – September 15, 2019) "Who's gonna' drive you home tonight?"
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27th Dec 2019 9:07pm
The saddest blanket keeps so warm. Something in the hunger stays strong past longing
