Whispers Of Night
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Whispers Of Night Poems
The Poet and the golden quill (dedicated...
I embraced the ruins of your life both with my arms and closed eyes; the perfect poet..the perfect man! the perfect dreamer..the perfect one!
You Found It Only By Chance
The bitter mercury of life is washed away as the last hours of night are cast aside,
He had everything immortalized in a portrait; angelic face, and golden hair, deep eyes a gorgeous smile, but a heart that cries- all he could trade for a moment of rapture.
The chosen ones (Necromancer)
Hold me, never let go of me never release me from your grip; be the frozen darkness that swallows the last drop of soul
once with the nightfall, a smile is present and a calling is heard I fear that your kiss is like a neverending crushing love shadow I fell in love with your silence..it's so contageous to me! angel, the morningstar spreads into space my dead lolita perfume
Under the sweet arches of reverie is where I can always find you, my darling poet! sharing your desire, your chant
Don't fall asleep
She sees the light that faded in his eyes, and felt the doleful shades of the unearthly she saw the mighty goddess casting fetters over the battle where heroes ablaze the fight.
what remains after this suicide rain after the droplets, after all pain? is it just the precious darkness with scented candle of sordid caress
Calliope, gentle muse of my art: sanctifyed voice of the earth the call of incandescent moon, adornments of pain after rain
The serpent's kiss
Indulge yourself now in dark caress, troubled soul of mine, reluctant to the flux of time. One can't find love where
Among the stars
Heart, spread your wings and fly dare! touch the vault, the silky sky Raise your feelings up, aim high Love! and you will never die..
Just take your time..
Just take your time and listen to the gentle whisper of
White roses grow into the garden of my heart;
In life and death..I will still love
Those eyes are lurking from thick darkness like fiery red burning beads..
Comments about Whispers Of Night
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Poet and the golden quill (dedicated to Oscar Wilde)
I embraced the ruins of your life
both with my arms and closed eyes;
the perfect poet..the perfect man!
the perfect dreamer..the perfect one!
no one knew better of human affection
except you, the pinnacle of perfection.
to love and to be loved is not a crime,
I stole your heart because you stole mine!
but what charm you had! ..so cynical, divine
like spring and tempest in a sweet entwine.
one can't cry his heart encorseted by thorns
nor understand why he's held in such deep awe
the nature's reverberance at his solemn voice;
and when he wrote, his ...