The End
Cold breeze that felt like tornados The sun rays slowingly bow down, Fogs like a trance Sings with number of lilies Unspoiled mood, never-ending twinkling of the stars, The moon shines, The clouds hop here and there Brilliance of your eyes like the details of Orion, Face like the beauty of sunset, The first time I grasped thee in my chest You seem to be thrilled with the hues of the misty air, Singin’ through a moonlit spot, Ignoring the essentials of reason and logic… How could this be an absolute view of wonderment and joy… And peace and passion… A quintessential attempt to make these moves quite risky, Could this be a trap, A prison of cold, misty air Unlike the freedom of hawks, the soaring of eagles, The anecdotal scenes, The deception of beauty and satisfaction, Sometimes it isn’t fair, Sometimes it’s lovely…wonderful and splendid… Sometimes feelings can overcome my stance, Vastness of vulnerability can subdue the depths of space, The wideness of physics, alarming equation of time and the multitudes of intensity. So… A part of me being buried in the true and tangled roots Of senses, Now I am deeply trapped in your gaze, Fervently beckoning the truth of emotions, Behind that space… A space of divine, static, comforting voice… A space behind you and me… Let’s call it joy, Let’s call it the flying colors above our heads, But lastly… Let’s call it the end of you and me… By: Maya Guzman Santos Copyright © September 2007 |