You may call it love.
You may call it beauty.
You may call it nature.
But i choose to call it none.
Thy beauty transcends from the sky.
A nonily smile.
Thy love, love me till dawn.
A lie in truth.
I have danced several dances.
Dancing to the sweet bitter pleasure of nature.
The second beauty.
Indeed, i am a poet of substance.
So, they say.
Says nay.
Let me in again.
Hmmm....! A thoughtful vessel.
For the block of stance.
Have blended us together.
And we have been distanced by our unwillingness.
I know thy love.
Oh...! Yes, i know thee not.
And yet, i have loved thee.
The true invisible love.
Let us dine in and out.
For we know the music already.
The music of the mystical tone.
For in cacophony, i disnoid.
I am always with thee.
Cyrinmike writes.
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