If This Beauty Shall Be My Final Curtain, Let It Be Dropped Slowly - Repost

` Parched and dry, this barren field stretches, I wander, head hung low, staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath my worn out sneakers, black and white crushing beige in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust “My sanity for some cool water” When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity, wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze as if Autumn has come to claim her colors, to gather her brown and sepia landscape, pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf from the chalk textured ground taking it where it would suit another, for this is my luck "Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch” Like fingers of a silken web’s reach, a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now green as if lush has just been defined with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow, pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly “To whom might I thank for such a gift?” When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me? My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end? “If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly” A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality, now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime “I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper, thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart, the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all “Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”