I try.
I will never be prepared
For that final,
Goodbye.
Love is a special
Tyrant,
And I can’t even
Explain, Why.
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Of Love and Life,
Written and discovered,Yet the mystery remains.Why this feelingThat cannot be explained,Is unlike any other?Why this happinessThis flame,That ties youTo anotherMakes life so worthwhileLiving,As the Feeling of FeelingsIs discovered?Uniting the holy, to the profaneAs true souls, in loveForever, gather,Having all the world to gain.
The milk of ‘human kindness’,
We know by now,A lost endeavor.
Life makes us
A chapter writtenEveryday,But it’s up to usTo do our best,To plant with zest,The wondersThe spiritual infusions,The good kind feelingsThat should give riseTo BeautyArt, Love and CompassionAbove,Everything else.
Like the Moon by Earth attracted,
So this feeling is enacted,Deep inside the heart of me.When the Moon at night awakens,Full lit light in black night sky,Moon beams, silently forsaken,By a love that will not die.‘I have loved you since my dawning,All alone, up in the Sky,Even though, I can’t approach you,Every night for you, I cry’But the Earth that’s slowly…
Poetry,
Melodiously uplifting,With ever-beauty, crowned,So close to the human soul,That looks for You to console,The emptiness of it All.
Let’s see,
Or that time, when we first met,As Time stopped, the world did tooAnd existing from that moment,There was you and only you.How you filled my empty life,With the dreams of ‘it’s just right’How I’ve loved you ever since,How you saved me from despair,Knowing, love for life was there.
I try.
I will never be prepared
For that final,
Goodbye.
Love is a special
Tyrant,
And I can’t explain
Why,
But every time
I think of your departure,
I break down and cry.
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Life is shockingly unfair,
Sharing Love and deep affection,Makes things easier to bareGiving Life its true connection.
Fascinating!
All those you comeInto contact with,But hardly even knowWill never reallyKnow,Shadowy presenceVirtual figuresLonely heartsFriend or Foe?Dream or existence?No one will ever know,Who, What or WhenNot even the machine,Thru which,All phantoms come and go.
The generosity of Poetry
That it allows you to sayWhat you are feeling today,What you love,And even,Maybe, at timesWhat Life is all about.
Words fall from nowhere,
Or troubled clouds over troubled hearts?For Love is also a song of Nowhere,When two Lovers are apart.
As one we march along in time,
To do the very best we can,And not do harm to fellow man.
Birds always fly away
As Life and fleeting TimeDo play,Their wistful and nostalgic,Schemes.