I will look for you, In the amber autum, That embraced our love; Songs of the pebbles beneath, Still chime in reminisce, Where we sat under the dusk, On a freezing winter's night Oh my, how beautiful that it sparkles under the moonlight //just like his blissful hazel eyes//
I'm drowning in dark wine, darker than the night sky above, below and around me. I'm drunk of wine, poured for me from the vessel of my melancholic past. The scent alone is enough to intoxicate me, to satisfy me for five, or maybe four lifetimes. I'm delirious of darkness, the hues and lack thereof my drink is so redolent, it confounds.
The Blood streaming down my body, painting crimson onto my feet, unyielding to the heat of daylight. I see my reflection within the blood, flashed is the light beheld by time shifted is this shape of crimson sublime, the wound seals. Dusk nears me, stabbing with tined blades of flame served the grief.
Colours betray my senses, blue takes my sight Resting my eyes in oblivion, drowning everything visible in gloom. Red takes my limbs leaving blood, yellow steals my mind running and leaving reality. Green takes my lips igniting my own envy. Orange takes my body hoarding every treasure inside it's nook and cranny. As the pain touches my tongue lied in nothingness, choked by hues, i can't taste. Nullity takes my breath as my nose is flooded by sapor and i can't smell. My skin is crushed with stench, creating voids and i can't feel. At the end, the voices of demons screaming ardently, Ushering towards my rise in hell. So they can dance on my grave entombed within the resonance of dark, forcing me until i couldn't go anywhere else but up.
your chuckles resonate in my ears like soft pitter patter after months of drought in my barren heart devoid of self love slowly wilting with the sunflowers you'd planted. They have grown and attained maturity now and have expressed their apologies for the inability to brighten the home they reside, my heart. My heart brims with our memories that are seeing the last sunset before summer crushes the flowers of late spring. goodbyes are hard and a year with you feels lesser than an eternity but enough for a little forever of ours. no one mattered to me before you and after, but just you. My keyboard smirks at me seeing me take your name more than twice scores of times, she knows your name by heart now. And I end up facepalming like the sun bequeathing the sky in the hands of moon.
I can love you and still let you go.
"I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” ― Pablo Neruda
Writing sonnet after a long time actually took me a long time.