Behold, the lonesome lake amidst the evergreen woods.
'Tis drifting in the quietness of wondrous solitude,
Upon the visage of languid silvery hue,
The earthly splendor of greatest joy imbue,
Waltzing the emerald ramparts of wildering trees,
Which sway around the curvature with the solemn breeze.
And the handsome brake will greet of the sweetest gay,
The joyous weeds in the shore gleaming with the ray,
Of the sprightly sun on days of summery haze,
As the flowery band carols in a tempting gaze.
And Oh! It has been hours since my long sojourn,
For the weariness o'er I bore, now has gone!
In the whispers of tender waves lapsing to and fro,
As the gentle eye of summer bids for his withdraw.
And departure 'tis for a visitor I am,
Subtly on the padded floor, Adieu with a shame!
Time twirls slowly,
when tragedy sunders
antiquated wings—
maimed and eroded, becoming
featherless angels,
ferociously combatant,
sparring to win,
wandering in vacant division,
while penetrating the walls
of our wildering downfalls.
Finding clemency in the
glimmer of our healing ambience,
realigning the quills of our love,
with every breath and pace across
idyllic esplanades, soaring above
catacombs of lawless perdition,
remedying grievances, while
reveling in the haven of
rhapsodic euphoria amidst
lingering plumes,
diffusing eternal tales of our
blissful hereafter.