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Written: September 06, 2023
I dream poetry                                      Sponsored by: Ink Empress   
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I wander in the night of ebony embrace,
Lost in dreams, heaven, or nightmare chase
Searching in vain for a misty glimmer of hue,
A muted color, yearning to trace through.

My fingers nibble to nudge your comely face.
To glimpse a xerox of your soul in this barren space.
But phantasms and dreams are drowned in tears.
Dreariness and skepticism drench my fears.

Wishes, once vibrant—now unbearably barren,
Each flinch of solace mauls annihilated and torn.
The moon, with a crimson glaze, casts its light.
Uttering the details of this celestial night.

I'm glad I sensed this infamous hue loop.
Yet these are crumbs of an urge to stoop.
They scolded me sternly from the start.
A sane conviction into my flaunting heart.

I swallowed a smidgeon of your spirit.
Silken strings of split that we skillet
Mirthless melodies form a philharmonic of pain.
Sisyphean scarcity smolders at me again.

I waltz to the woeful waiata of weary dance.
Oddments of our devotion, a haunting stance
Alone, I bemoan in the manor of the moon.
Will the sun ever hover over my sorrow soon?
 
Could the growl as it rains blur a rainbow?
While we witness it from the apathetic row.
Or am I being scolded and rebuked for being alive?
Will the spasm that lends life veer and strive?

In the abyss of darkness, there is light.
A beacon of optimism that shines so bright.
And even if I wander, adrift and alone,
Iffy down, surely my soul will cinch home.

I'll retain probing solace in memories past.
They are the fragments that will ever last.
Yet throes may abide, and anguish may resist.
I'll cling to my optimism that love will persist.

Love is an odyssey full of swings and turns.
But, at last, it is an affection that returns.
So I'll betroth myself to the dreams of the past.
They sang to me over the glorious time I cast.
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