Lovelorn Lamentations.

Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love.

—William Shakespeare

I wake every day the sun I welcome,

Unknown the pangs of the night,

A soul in search

Of deepest longing, hath come by just to hurt.

I sleep at night with all the lore,

Of unfilled absence for what think is right,

For what felt unimaginable,

The poet sings to my soul, the voices that make me ponder.

I see none but your face,

I think none but you,

I feel the desire to have you here,

All I could do is shed a tear.

Is this the torture that is to love??

Ought not should it be more delightful??

Ought not to beguile my core??

For there is but yearning deep in me.

I scar insincerity at night to no avail,

The songs of nymphs, seduces,

The satyrs walk along, eyes of malice,

Of such sensual desires, the food for the wicked.

My prince of delicate as you were,

I bequeath your knight to serve you gladly,

Lead him last, for you’ve enslaved this poet’s heart.

It’s all yours, free him not but your chambers.

Lay him there, he’ll surrender,

A stead for the breaking, a soul hungered.

The battles of a mangled passion, he’ll fight in you.

A scuffle of skin, sweat and feverish craving.

Pass thee, yet all seems blunt,

To have yearned, just as desired,

Be blest the one whom I love.

There is just what needing him as much.

To sleep amidst the tenderness of it all,

To lay there all the sheets, alone.

To kiss the softness of what!?? Dreary, senseless and a bore.

What warmth there’d be laying with you here beside me?

Of the 7 billion, you chose me.

Consider myself very lucky, to love in return,

To have, to need and want you even more.

No judge better, spare lies for thee I dearly love.

To end a song of my heart’s desire,

A stare at your photograph, those urge to let go,

It struck me good, those eyes of yours,

How squeamish I’ve become, what lies beyond those glow!??

Leave me thane lips, red and sweet,

The tail of the brow, a perfect stroke,

A whiff of whispers, a cringe to my soul,

to thane ears, ‘’I love you’’ shall be told.

There is no malice, lest a sinful truth,

My mind is my heart; my heart is my soul,

The mermaid have sang to her sailor,

Come to me; rest with me, in depths unfathomable.

I’ve written no more than a bit of what’s found,

I’ve sang songs, care I not just to be fond with,

I’ve done what things, a charm to impress,

To know behind that, my prince is pleased.

There is but a million more literacy in me,

To defile my decent-like sanity,

I’d sit on that rock every day, look upon the skies afar,

Just over the mountains, past the sea you’ll be waiting for me.

I have a desire. I have a wish. There is my need. My sanity is you.

Forgive me, my prince for I have loved.

Forgive your knight to offer you his hand.

Forgive not what love there is, it has made me your equal.

I love you. I miss you. That Is all.