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Poem

Wrote this one using some of my own prompts and prompts by my fellow poets...


If love were a thorn-less rose,
I would have gifted you
a thousand springs full of them,
as I look for ways,
to show you how your scars make me feel now,
when you ask me,
will you take care of my tired soul?
I wish to turn back time,
and remove all those thistles, and thorns,
from your pierced heart that craved
mere harmony.
I laid my soul bare to you,
for there can be no secrets 
that hungry half-moon would hide
from brimming night.
It all started with a poem,
when my heart gave way for that last first
madness in the air,
a silent surrender of bitter sweet agony.
I wondered how words coming from a distant 
origin of ache
can feel like my own crooked creation.
These vivid fantasies of you, and me
are more than mere maddening illusions,
and I am a moth ready to burn,
for my muse is you -
making stars seep in my veins
soothing them deeply.
I dream to repaint our melancholic skies anew,
with lasting imprints of immaculate ink,
because my restless breaths
found peace in you,
like a nearly dying fish find water again.
I am a mess,
but it didn't make you love me less,
maybe when empty hearts collide,
sweet symphony, and melancholic melody
can rhyme well too,
like a familiar song from the beginning of times,
hoping they may continue to echo --
in ethereally euphonious tunes.

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