She – Twenty.
The Last Love.
Fabricate to me mind, a dream I never wished to see,
Where no fantastic beauties love me with smiles charming,
My mind into blending the gone by days to the day of now,
And events fogged and appears as truth of promises of morrows.
Pump blood through my veins that fuels the love of mine,
Show me the veil-less face of love with my love I can adore,
Fill my flesh and skin with passion a truth filled lover can feel,
Oh’ soul absorb all and sprout for her my flower of love.
And through the valleys of reality slowly I walked,
There are no dreams, there are no promises,
The ever speaking conscience slept, intoxicated in love,
Ah’ wishes looked for hopes for her eyes filled with love.
Oh’ Love trapped in a square with unseen boundaries of time.
Age neither made me old, nor tired me as a sleepless lover,
But words with a million thorns bled soul with unhealable wounds,
She, hid away behind a veil of colors that lost compassion.
Aah’ love left to drown remained afloat losing no colors,
Took her image and embedded deep into soul in all her charms,
Where forever to keep every cell in material and spirit vowed.
The truth of a poet’s love, the only love, the last love.
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