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by Demetrius  Gwyn

I will never get over you; 
tears- because I'm passionately, arduously 
       desirous of the music that plays me 
love- sinking so deeply in love; 
      offers were made, 
but I would deny the opportunity 
to be pulled out of my dungeon for the love of you.

Loving is my joyed, imprisoned affections: 
if I'm attacked, waged upon by the military 
to surrender my love for you, 
I would face the fact of total annihilation -to be bombed.  
Yes, I'll be physically nothing but ashes, 
oh, I'm ruined, I'll love you to the death.

No, no! no!! I don't want to be rescued, 
allow me to weep and wail 
for the love I have for you 
which damages my reasoning.

You're very precious, 
for you have twisted me, blistered me,
scalded me in love's fire.  
My devastation is only to love
with a love that will throb, 
rob me of my sanity, 
and give my blood, hot fires of love.

So you see, dearest of my soul, you have left me 
abandoned with other broken hearts; 
lonely nights as before. 
The need grows that shatters my life.

I know I should have never focused my eyes 
on your persuasive beauty, 
beauty so lovely that angels cry, 
and I perused the physical splendor 
you dynamically promenade as you visited my eyes.
I may be rebuked for even venturing in your rose garden; 
however, I confess that my soul has darkness, 
but your dulcet eyes are the stars that brought light 
and the golden sparkle banished me 
to only walk away kissing the air 
of your perfume and the remembrance of your smile.

I'm ruined; I hurt when I realize I may be denied holding you.  
Suddenly, this I know, you can see I'm suffering 
from inner bleeding, 
but I'll survive off of bread and murky water 
and walk in the mud of my misery.

I don't think my heart would stop if I never had you 
as the loving roe of my life, 
which gasps and pants 
to the horrible condition that I've lost love 
through such aggravated abuse; 
but what ecstactic joy 
to muse on the gorgeous being, 
captivating my heart, mind and soul.  
I only brought to you the kindness 
of a man in love.

You will probably never give me a date 
to satisfy and gratify my longing.  
Claw my eyes out that I may not see 
you walk away to another.  
Sadly, I bring you love.
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Poem ID: 10750   Poem Posted: 2/9/1999
Viewed: 22210  Voted On: 371  E-mailed: 107  Commented On: 10
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Copyright , 1995,  all rights reserved by the author.
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