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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Relationship · #635771
A Poem of confusion and desperation, of love holding on by a fingernail.
Oh sad Moon, thou cursedly trapped body of the heavens,
chained to the world as a man is chained to the unmerciful attentions of love,
always watching but never able to touch, listening but never feeling,
forever chasing the beauty of the earth, but never able to catch it.
Oh Moon, hear me, answer me my query, help me, please.

Why dost that beauty of the earth confuse me so?
Her scent Clouds my mind and covers mine eyes with mists,
So that any man may lose his sanity,
with the teasing of that Angelic Woman.
She pulls me close, and then lets me go,
She looks into mine eyes and looks at me so,
Tilting up her lips in expectation of a kiss,
She reaches for me,
only to laugh and dance away, leading me a merry chase.
The woman is the very image of love herself,
the most dazzling beauty of the earth.
She lacks nothing of intelligence,
and is incredible with wit.
Her laugh is the musical chime of angels,
being blown of heavenly breath.
Issued forth of the most sweet lips,
her very word is an edict of mine heaven.
Her eyes looking into my soul,
those swirling endlessly tantalizing pools of bliss
that any man would be glad to drown himself in,
sinking into an abyss of utter paradise.
Her arms, so powerful to send such lightning,
they course through my body, a spreading wildfire,
inspired only by a single touch,
letting me know that I am indeed alive and in Love.
She claims love for another, and I see that she speaks true,
Yet she also claims love for me, and I can see it too,
but every moment that she hasn't decided which of us is hers,
Is a blinding moment of agony.
Every moment she resides in unannounced indecision,
her lovers dwell in jealousy and woe, knowing not what to do.
It is a bitter whirlpool of love and jealousy that I am trapped in.
Oh Moon, you are indeed right to be mournful so,
Your shining, weeping face looks down upon us all,
crying for our sorrows, your heart breaking for our lost loves.
I thought that the confusion rested in my mind,
Until she looked at me with a downcast heart, and weeping eyes,
Oh such eyes,
Asking for the advice of my twirling soul.
I had to respond the only way I could.
Though I still love her with every fiber of my being,
though I have prayed for her love every eve,
though I have tried to support her in everything she does,
and be there for her cry, day or night,
In this I must let her decide on her own.
I cannot choose for her, we know what I would say.
I cannot influence her decision, we know what I would guide it to.
We now know of my feelings towards her perfect soul, and I must stand back,
though it tears my heart with grief, I can only hope and pray to her merciful spirit.

Oh Moon, if she looks upon you this night, or any night hereafter,
I beseech you, let her know the words I have spoken to you in her heart,
Beg the truth of them unto her, and shower her with tears of love,
that she may come to love me again as it once was.
Now Moon I sleep, and dream of her perfect being,
And hope that the morrow brings an enlightened day.
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