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Posts Tagged ‘True Love’

In these desolate hours of an unending night,
I see the moonlit rocks cut into the steps of art.
The steps are in stone, the ones so entrenched
Through the times we lived, in the hours of heart.
Why flicker with fate, why foster nests unknown?
Why tamper the torrid tests of time that moan?

The world we know is gone to sleep, now in dream.
The moments stand altogether stronger in rhyme.
Soul knows no scented evening full of velvet course;
The women, the wine, the literature all look grim.
Freedom, that I seek, is no escape but grow my soul
Into a swan that shall cover the waves of reason.

A distant friend, a beauty almost in faraway land;
Not love, nor treason, but souls that I see in dust,
Make these emotions distant, devoid of the death,
Devoid of barren brazen boasting beats of sound.

I will meet you at some crossroad again and ask,
If it meant sense to have covered with the mask.
Am I insane, induced with engulfing enticed illusion?
Or you were the time that chiseled me into a man?

When I meet you, I will ask!

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Along the sweating air in this bizarre citadel,
There droops a bird on the leafless bough.
There is a known mirage on the path so supple,
There is life among dwelling peasant’s laugh. 

I not see now the devout saints of sulphur,
Nor hear music beyond the curtained door.
In this heat thoughts become lighter and lighter
And vanish vanquished beyond visual amber.

So sensuous, so hidden are the words now,
To spell or to see is the dilemma in hope.
Some friends are lost in this battle of seasons,
Some old ones still wait for me to hop.
There is no lake now, my stream has dried,
Vapours alone see meaning in tests and tow. 

But wait for droplets to fall not far away
And the dying stream to flow fresh again
With smells of earth married to heated air.
With hope shall this generation survive
Through odds of time and tides of pain
To further move our seeds with care?

With hope comes divinity more distinct,
And life gains the true love precinct.
Beyond this unending dream of the stream
The soul journeys through eternity.

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On the same crossroads where we met last,
I still yearn to see you come again, alone.
Let there be no humans, no old statues cast,
No dark doors, no vivid fates, just love alone.
These lives that we lived are lost like wars.

The Beatrice I know has now immortal wings,
And has grown more love than ever before.
Now nothing stops the marriage of our souls.
The Florence I loved long is now denied,
As trusted faces are jaunted in jealous eyes,
And fleeting souls lead and leave past buried.

I am here to sing and write for love so dear;
But cruel intentions consume cold intellect
That I believe was to receive trusted praise.
In desire there is the Beatrice I love again,
For no promise I can see without embrace.

I have kinsmen at home who are far now, 
With unknown fates and dwindling days.
I have my first books and an ancient ink pot
Wandering through the window for return
Of me, my verse filled in heart like an urn.
But I will not redeem, nor will listen to past.
I am a man and like my race shall move on.
This is not fate but an exile cast on my soul.

There are patrons now for me to demolish,
Enough grudge on the verse I wrote in rein,
And Satan that I saw through the homes lost.
There is still love that runs in my aged vein.

The statue of four seasons stands now,
Where we first promised to live and love.
There are grapes and graves lying beside
Like the mockery of our human dreams.

After ages we will be born and meet again,
May not be in Florence but in a far away land,
Where fate will settle down like the sea sand
And frozen dreams will live and love again.

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I see a spring after a decade’s fall,
A song that’s now here to stay;
Time is like the oak green and tall,
Love repeats love and pray.
In despair there is earth for hope
And my fate is like a rain drop;
A tattered cloth and sunken cheek  
That I carry for a decade and seek
The right to live and love forever.

I heard the voice I craved for
And the soul’s sweet words
That I was missing in this abyss.
There was a dialogue roar,
And how has time been
Meaningless with no axis.
I was sure love would never return
As love never left this beating heart.
There is grace even in her mourn,
As poise is in her loving art.
 She queried all that I had assumed,
There was no error on either side,
Still we suffered and are consumed
By the kind we belong and stride.

True it is we are now miles apart
And have miles more to cover.
There is enough love in my heart
To wait for you when life is over.
When there is only solitude left,
I will still smile and welcome.
I can’t leave this life or the being,
As have to serve the beings bereft.

I am sure you will meet me
When I am old and grown tired.
We will talk about the years,
The world, the tales and rhyme;
A great love that time admired.
From there we will voyage
To a far and prosper land
Where profit is not by age
But with moments so grand.

I will wait there till you come,
And we build our only home.

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There is an island not far from here,
Above the errors of time and beyond.
No life so no death; and no fear
To lose as all that is gained or found.
I am in darkness but still can see
The apparitions I wished years before.

In that island there are books of love;
And legends smoothly move around.
Tales that I have read long before
Stand with serene smile and profound.

Who says there was a mistake?
Who says we were friends?
Mountains stand tall side by side,
And never whisper their agony.
This height they have reached,
In solitude they will break.
Now there is no return,
Now there is no correction.
Time is the only truth that stands.

I will write till I live,
And I will sing aloud.

What harm can I do in these times,
With a wretched house, broken rhymes
And a defeated soul that can’t sing?
I will like sit on the stone
And like Oedipus narrate to all;
The romance in the air and hymns,
Graduate every soul to love more.
Peace is the boat and dream an oar,
To reach that island of Love.
We will be together on that voyage,
We will live and love forever.

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