Of Love And Life

Tell me where I shall find you,
In this mismatched world,
Travelled as I have from pole to pole,
My desire in design,
In colours only you can see,
Of texture only you can touch,
I painted the deepest oceans,
With my stillness in motion.

This journey has broken me,
In pieces of a man I once was,
And so I may fall short of your measure,
As you would tower in mine.

The long distance has brought our past closer,
I am naked once again,
My form without patience, frail and brittle,
Like an old man’s corollary, newfound and foetal,
Hold me in the cluster of moonlight,
Watch me in the ripples of river,
Beware, love, the closer you come,
More blur shall I become.

The passing mist of time, is finally here,
I wish to hear your voice,
Feel the wind behind it’s whisper,
Drink the fragrance of your breath,
And wash all my token faces,
In the fall of your tresses.
But I know not if you are,
As alive as I imagine,
If you would leave me all again,

Author: TheHumanAnvil

I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you.

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