Poetry: Immortal Beloved

Are you really here? Or am I dreaming? It's a dream again, it's always this dream that I see you smiling then as I turn away it fades to sorrow, No light forthcoming no hopes for tomorrow, just the kind that only misery can invoke, its like a sick sad certainty that you certainly see me inadvertently and at the same time blatantly watch as I waste away, contemplating vast shades of dismay.

You once broke waves and now you wither like wisps lost in winter. To me you were to me pearl shining in a sea of stones. Together we were the Guns of Summer, blasting freedom from our barrels never minding the business of others. Our desire was the powder, and our intentions the bullets. Aiming far beyond our expectation. 

This solace driven queen that comes and goes like a solstice brings weather, with niceties soft as a feather, but desire that burns hotter than a phoenixes footsteps. Walking and burning holes in my skin, searing memories I bare into my skin, like a symphony written for all to share.

Being this way, so far away makes me miss these dreams but fear them, because like the past that was my torture these memories of more memories are my nemesis. You were my escape, and definitely my genesis, my beginning, my first chapter, but now you are my sweet ever after, and yet my shadowy figure lurking on a rafter, it's that haunting need to of wanting that keeps taunting and tempting, spinning spells that keep me on the beaten path laden with chains by a hurtful mask wearing maiden.

And when im old grey, i know that i will always feel this way. I miss those nights, that turned to morning, now left amidst the aftermath, with nothing to do but endure relentless mourning. I run from you, in this scantly clad but fanciful facade feasting fiercely on all things that once entranced me. But its over now, what we had was once immortal, but now forsworn. I will limp back to my hovel bereft and forlorn. I miss you my Immortal Beloved.