Hey guys, today the subject is completely different from wine (although a glass would help).
Today I found one of my poems, that was written... 12 - 15 years ago.
I found it in a draft old email address, without an addressee.
Every inch of me wants to make changes to it, but I won't...
(all pictures used are just to make the post more readable and are not related to the poem)
Your tender grace.
Beloved moments.
Your heavenly embrace.
Your look upon my body.
Your glance not worthy my description,
Turned me to insanity indeed.
I think of you yet once again…
You’re the cliché upon my heart,
The epic of my poetry.
My world, my love, my nature.
The religion in my head.
Your skin like Persian silk befallen upon my guilty eyes.
Just like an undiscovered precious stone,
That I am petrified to touch.
To speak my lips, I am afraid.
Scared not to hear you whisper back to me.
My opium, my drug, my illness, my imagination!!!
Yes, so in love I am – yet that
Love is trapped inside me.
Never to escape my thoughts.
I am not worthy to lay my hands upon this gem.
For this treasure is not mine.
Yet jealousy had driven me insane.
To be in love or not to be?
That is a poet’s question.
And to my luck the answer is never to be heard!
So for now I leave for you this:
My poetry, my message,
That is carrying my love.
I will try to find more on my old CD's, if I will find them, I will publish them.
Discussions, comments and criticism is very much welcome.
P.S. I publish under the title of secret writer, as I want this to be a "second user", I will also publish some stories under this title, they might be real or not
