An Untitled Feeling, and Untitled Wish

 

Shadows and glimpses, beauty untold.

A wisp, a fairy, rarely here to behold,

The talk of our hearts, the singing of our minds,

The concept I wished to be mine.

 

Flourishing like a rose,

As dew drops gently glide on petals,

My feelings to be once again disposed,

Success? I fear the outcome looks fatal.

 

The rose doesn’t belong to me,

But so my heart does not either,

To regain the sincerity of being free,

To regain the idea of belonging to me,

The fulfillment of this concept to be neither.

 

The crescent moon stands tall,

Parading in the soft velvet dress called night,

Her ethereal light gleams on the tip of a petal.

Like a bell that tolls,

The wind faintly calls,

I beg thee sleep to take me in her arms,

And merely hold me tight.

 

Dream of a rose if I may,

Dream of a heart to take,

Dream of freedom as I lay,

To toss and turn, for only…..

 

 

 

…..To wake.

 

- Midnight

 

(Written July 29, 2007)