Me again, another meh-fest of poetry beckons.
Blue Screen Dreams
Your voice is a spell
that dissolves all these chains
of a self imposed hell
leaving no visible remains
Your face is a sculpture
mastered by no man alive
the knows no boundary of culture
its beauty ne'er will die
Your touch is so pure
like the glisten of Spring
where sunlight doth endure
encompassing everything
Your smile is so charming
like a beacon at sea
in water's so calming
but no light guideth thee
Your smell mirrors that
of a freshly cut rose
whose roots thrown in the cracks
bring life to below
Your eyes whisper to me
'come with me and fly,
fly higher than dreamers
we'll be gods before we die'
Yet your feet still remain
on the floor where you stand
the clouds gather, about to rain
no warmth share my hand.
dootdoot
~chaywa
Blue Screen Dreams
Your voice is a spell
that dissolves all these chains
of a self imposed hell
leaving no visible remains
Your face is a sculpture
mastered by no man alive
the knows no boundary of culture
its beauty ne'er will die
Your touch is so pure
like the glisten of Spring
where sunlight doth endure
encompassing everything
Your smile is so charming
like a beacon at sea
in water's so calming
but no light guideth thee
Your smell mirrors that
of a freshly cut rose
whose roots thrown in the cracks
bring life to below
Your eyes whisper to me
'come with me and fly,
fly higher than dreamers
we'll be gods before we die'
Yet your feet still remain
on the floor where you stand
the clouds gather, about to rain
no warmth share my hand.
dootdoot
~chaywa
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