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The Magic of the Night Air

The night air pulses with the tunes of my anguish
Remember, whispers it to my sulking face,
Remember of the romance meant to be lived
In eternity!

Remember of the cause of your fall
Remember of the divine guidance!

The night air pulses and the chilly winds prick me,
Bidding me to open the pores of my senses,
So receptive to the wills of my own fate!

Keeping my faced turned up to the hovering moon
I clasp my arms tight around myself
Letting the tears flow as painfully as they wish
Letting the hurt engulf my whole essence
Letting the agony of my fate coil and uncoil itself
Around me, as much as it wishes to
Taking no account of anything else!

Pray, submission fills up my love ponds
Weary and tired of life,
I have simply turned to love,
Submissively,
Wishing to bloom in between its arms
Or to die at its hands
Whichever shall it will
As long as the night air shall keep pulsating
With the tunes of my anguish!

After all, my story originates from the time
When Creation did not exist yet
It shall have to keep on being alive,
As such is what the bearers of Existence
Have willed for me!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 6/20/2019 9:03:00 AM
This is such an emotional poem that evokes sadness. my compliments, Anoucheka!
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