Love, is not a moderate image to paint !
I have tread a serene parks walk with colourful abundant trees and beauteous scenes
Yet Love :
“let me honour those who favour you their forte”!
Lustful young love and bitterness in sweet red wine
Patience in a white steady car awaiting traffic to mind time
Everything coming together , it is my damn fault you are not mine?
Frantically screaming in the passages of my life
In a motion that is slow they kiss me to complete my life
And touch me I fathom inside me caterpillars turn to butterflies
Tomorrow im in the hue-less shadows of solitude
And love is a ghost
Oh it unremorsefully robs me of hope
On an isolated bench gazing the starry nights
Your identity is a historic illusion of time
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