Soul Meets Soul on Lovers’ Lips

  The pain deep within sears with fiery burn
   A persistent pain, to which there’s no gain
   For you, you see, there’s nowhere I’ll not go
  So I’ll play this hand, for I can’t forego.
   There’s no depth too low, nor deprivation
   There’s no face too shear, or sunken station
   There’s no time too long, this is pure passion
   There’s no thing too far, for you’re my heaven.
   Two full moons have come and gone since you’ve gone
   The Whys for your departure, are now clear
   The guilt trips were cruel, my dear desert pearl
  The bathroom floor’s no place for a treasure.
   Oh how I now know the errors I’ve made; I know now too that true love does not fade.

Past & Present
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Oh let the hopeless amongst us bow to the Latter Day Romantics . . . . . .

John Keats lived to 25

P. B. Shelley lived to 30

Lord Byron lived to 36

. . . . . . . we can revise the tires but let us not replace the wheels; far better to pay yesteryear some degree of heed. But ya Jay Bae don’t here get me wrong, we do too need to be creative and inventive. It is true indeed that we can’t stay stuck perpetually in past’s lust but, we need to read a bit about it before we can gainfully dig for and articulate convincingly pleasures new.

A Master Cannot Serve Two Mistresses

Author: Anna Bidoonism

You'll find poems, prose & literary analysis on my blog -- this is who I am.