Reasons To Insanity...
...For a twilight vale unfolds
From dawning of your skies
Passing through miles of cold
To where autumn can rise
Though summer dusts have rolled
When spring was breathing sighs
If you I can’t behold
Then blinded be my eyes...
...For a dimming sun’s fainting
From bright of moon afar
Reeling with dreams, acquainting,
To where sleep lives unbarred
Though shadows won’t be tainting
When midnights fray through blur
If your worlds I’m not painting
Then darkened be my stars...
...For a bleeding pigeon’s fleeing
From shores of loneliness
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To Two Magical Eyes...
Beloved,
Should these words chance to pass your glimpse or whisper through your distant ears, then know, standing this lonesome seam I ink the drops of tacit tears, while drawing shadows of your dreams on tomorrows of all yesteryears...
In times when Summer merged with Spring and Fall stood still to reach its height, I wondered what might future bring through stormy days and rainy nights and drew the colours of your Autumn wings when Winter paled my fragile sight...
When one desert greeted endless sunrise, my kingdom shined with ruinous rays; there vultures noshed my veins to dry, by countless corpses found my place; swaddled in dust ‘neath cloudless skies, long miles of cactus pierced my face, still drew the sea of your mirage-eyes to drench the sigh of wilderness...
Once twilight shot stars on haunted shire and shadows took abysmal turn; by the branches where every leaf breathed fire, the thirsty valleys had their throats to burn; birds broke their nests by floral pyre by nodding trees had my prayers begun; to the call of heaven raised mine eyes higher and drew your rays in the last of sun...
That eve when I went to a florist’s tent, she showed some flowers not seen before; with waxed out petals, their thorns were waned yet unmatched to the shade you bore; though myths would say roses were meant to ever last for evermore; beside those bouquets of withered scent, I drew your name in a tulip’s core...
My brain’s not of the wisest men, nor wealthy cottons suit my skin; faceless, alone, worthless, insane - I wander planets of your sheen; through plains of Arab, China, Spain - searching for you each place I’ve been and may forgo all treasures when your galaxy’s for me to win...
And now, when I chanted loud your name, one ballad smiled on dancing lips; to the steps of sonnets this far I came, one trunk of verses filled my grip -
Beloved,
I may not offer the best of poems
yet they are all for you to keep...