I have lived a thousand lives in your eyes,
Painted portraits of a thousand angels
In trying to capture you on canvas.
I have seen the Cherubim, Seraphim,
Blush so sweetly red at your saintly hymn.
Your form holds the wind in captivity,
Blissfully.
I have lived a thousand lies for your eyes,
Painted a thousand demons to hold you
Down, so I may hold that which I, in
My base form, my loathsome mortality,
Could naught but gaze at- as one, who, drowning
Stares upwards at the beckoning light fast
Fading.
I have contorted my form to hide me
From the wind, who, having recently lost
Its esteem, rejoices for my lesser
Form reminds of its superiority.
For you, my loathsome Love, I have suffered
A thousand deaths in a solitary
Breath, every day of my ever lonely
Life.
HI, ALINA.YOUR POEM IS NICE AND TRUE.I ENCOURAGE YOU TO WRITE MORE.THANKS.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
HI, ALINA.YOUR POEM IS NICE AND TRUE.I ENCOURAGE YOU TO WRITE MORE.THANKS.