Around madness

There was a timeWhen we were wine and roses,But, so many times, with timeAll decomposes,We take things apart,We take ourselves apartWe look for troubleAnd we get it,Never satisfied, Never smartAnd so go so many loves,That perhaps were doomed,From the very start.

For a poet, Words are Honey,Without which, he can’t survive.

I admire you,I swim in your words,I fly with your words,Like a silver sparrow,Wounded by a golden arrow,I dare not approach the Sun,For fear of being burned.It’s alright,Your light is bright enough,To excite all my tomorrows,Even though, we’ve never met,I’m still,Lovingly yours, tonight,And every night that follows.

Cherries in Summer,In Winter, Wheat.The One I love,Does not know it yet,And that is because,We have never met.In the coming Future,When love will be,What love has to be,The Flowers will blossom,Giving fruit to the tree,The true rebirth,Sought incessantly.

Above me,That surrounds me,Ice to heart,Astound me,With your presence,Warm me,Make me live again,Before your long departure,Hold me,Like I was never held before,So that you’re presence lasts,Whenever I am lonely,I ask for nothing more.Dearest,No one can measure,Or fully express,The profundity of Love,That is why,Poetry must try.

Broken porcelain, from Life’s bitter shelf,At moments your shadow crosses the room,The empty room,And I mistakenly think, I’ll see you soon.But nothing happens,All is the same,The emptiness of the empty room,I call your name,Nothing happens,Except, each time,The pain is deeper,And the tears don’t rhyme.