In the realm of affection, I find myself skeptical,
As the realm of true soulmates seems mythological.
What remains in this world's tapestry,
Are fleeting connections, deceit, and trickery.
Yet, I yearn not for such transient flings,
But for morning kisses that joyously sing,
For tender embraces on a tranquil eve,
For heartfelt vows that love will never leave.
Perhaps my destiny holds love's embrace,
Yet not within this mortal space.
In another life, another day,
Maybe it will happen,
In some other way.
YOU ARE READING
Moans in the Wind
PoetryWhen we are hurt, we moan in pain. When we are happy, we moan in soft sighs. When we are in love, we moan in affection and pleasure. All of your moans are meant to be heard.
