Lost in the melancholic embrace of twilight

Lost in the melancholic embrace of twilight, I found myself anew, a soul drifting on the winds of fate, Created to belong to that solitary spirit For whom my heart would beat, rhythmic and thirsty. Since the dawn of time, I have reveled In this state of being a slave to Love! Love demands patience, patience, renouncing my throne, And baring my soul before a vast sea of uncomprehending souls. I, the whirlwind, a storm in my fervent chaos, And Love, the riverbed, calm and soothing, Allowing my existence to flow, to simply be. Being Love’s thrall, I am granted The power to imbue dark souls With the melodies of love, perfectly harmonized, To give wings to their hearts, So they too may dream of its enchanting embrace. A slave to Love, I must be virtuous, Woven from morals, principles, tears, Blood and forgiveness, acceptance, Blind will, and passion so deep, so fragile, A force akin to nature’s wrath at times, And at others, a delicately fragrant flower. I have made Love my master, As was ordained by celestial decree, I have accepted this fate, ready to die for it if need be, Though the lover within me yearns to be held In warm hands, asked why I hold fast Even when it means swimming against the current. A servant of Love am I, Reveling in this state as long as strength endures, Dancing to its ethereal melodies, Meditating on its serene depths, Writing its secrets in shadowed prose, Waiting for it, waiting patiently, As those who drown wait, For a hand to pull them to safety.