She thought to be perfect,
To be one of uppermost tempest of desires,
To be loved be every,
To be wished upon by others,
Then as dusk turn to night,
Her perfection unfold,
Thou perfection,
With thou envy of those,
Made her dead sleeping corpse,
Bare to bone,
And the bleed that accede,
To it came over a kiss,
That the lover's bliss ended,
As the picture of perfection lay ended,
O, to the faultless ideal one,
O, to the sleeping doll,
O, to what the envy done!
As now the blossom's snow of precision,
Will never age,
Will never be unsightly,
Thus forsightly stating my claim,
That my snow blossom's loveliness,
Thou stay untamed.
Author notes
Written June 21st, 2005
What did you think
Comments
-
thanks
MAN what imagery I love the line To be one of uppermost tempest of desires,,,,,,to be a storm of desires... what an image.. and then this ---To be loved be every, To be wished upon by others,----WOW That my snow blossom's loveliness,
Thou stay untamed. would that we could all remain somewhat untamed )))
Adding your comment:
1 old applause
