Three short poems

Three Short Poems

A fleeting moment spanning
years, In which to bask in thy
divine benevolence.
Each absence marked through
unshed tears, And voracious
longing for your presence.
To lose you – true -  my greatest fear,
My Tartarus remains our severance.

From silent smile to lilting laugh,
Let the dynamics rise and fall.
I'll beseech the Weaver till the last,
To permit one vice through all.
To allow this fool, virtuous contrast,
For you I exist; as Moirae's thrall.
And in servitude I shall amass,
The strength I need, to no longer
crawl.
________________________________________________________________________________

All I desire is to have longer, verily
I would grow stronger. And far more
worthy of your soul,
Perhaps then I could take control,
Of our fates, now twisted, linked,
As they wind forth, through curve and
kink. Where on occasion we may
fight, But I avow not to lose sight,
Of what matters, what rings
true, To keep ahold, through and through,
Of that, which I now hold dear,
And shall triumph again,
the coming
years,
To prove once more that I speak
truth, Until old age, we start in youth.
I'd undergo torture for one still kiss,
To transcend Earth, to attain
bliss.

________________________________________________________________________________

This cliché, what next? “A pretty face”?
Such paltry lines, they're sheer disgrace,
To you, who in my resting place,
As a sorry soul of Pluto's race,
Shall be my only, my fitful grace.
For memory, no more than a trace,
To remain perpetual as the base,
To never waver nor feel chase,
Forever in my soul encased,
To never know yourself displaced,
And always sense the boundless haste,
With which I fly toward embrace,
And know;
death stands preferred, than to waste
a life: one lived without you.