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Of the secrecies of day.

Contributed by iodinelove on Sunday, 14th May 2006 @ 12:23:00 AM in AEST
Topic: LovePoetry

Considering her, I am lost.
A black dawn settles over the stars, and I sleep.

It is in my dreams that I am furthest from her, her laughing, enraptured form soaring high over the mountains of my love.
I cannot, in the depths of my deepest dreams; dream the depth of her eyes.

She is a flower to the sky, the tiniest water written in the sea; yet I cannot begin to comprehend the immensity of her love.

(There is no word with the capacity to endure the overwhelming renewal of her smile.)

She is a shadow drawn simply beneath the extremity of the sun, a ragged, drowning sorrow mounting the front lines of sea, stirring and shifting the fingers of the tide.

She is a masquerade buried in the density of love; a shining star fled over the last remaining night, a grim charge toward the secrecies of day.

She is the empty battlefield forgotten by her brothers; by her son; she is rigid, sad, and afraid; the sounds of trumpets bellow in the distance. She is the mother of a broken home. A long silence awaits her, and she is calm. There is nothing left.

She is all that I consider, as I drift softly in to sleep, all that I dream when I find myself awake.

Copyright © iodinelove ... [ 2006-05-14 00:23:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Of the secrecies of day. (User Rating: 1 )
by Keilantra on Sunday, 14th May 2006 @ 12:59:18 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

amazing write, abraham, as always, i enjoy reading your work.

It is in my dreams that I am furthest from her, her laughing, enraptured form soaring high over the mountains of my love.
I cannot, in the depths of my deepest dreams; dream the depth of her eyes.
that was written perfectly

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