Lonesome Poem by Michael Eziudo

My heart a bowl of many flowers ripe and odorant
Needing a vine to mata its nectar, loneliness so rampant
And now the eyes search in fetch of a damsel
Who alone shall keep the heart alive and to marvel
At the beauty of the porter's handiwork

Many have a Romeo and others have their Juliets
When shall I like Othello elope with my Desdemona, my bracelet
No matter the pain the sacrifice more than suicide still I can bear
For this angel who her heart has put in my palm

Thorns and pines beat me in my dreams
Where the thought of you is equated to chasing shadows
I burn the touch for you as I fall head over hills
My sleep is sucked and my awake taunted, oh, painful wishes
Hardly can I swallow the milk and honey in my mouth
As appetite gone questions me of your worth