in the midnight hours
under the glow of the
cool, pale moon
i sit alone waiting
for my self to return.
where is my love?
i am hypnotized by the
breeze and the wine
i made from the tree
of lilacs that umbrellas
over me. my cup half
full or half empty.
i made wine from the
lilac tree and i emptied
the liquid of my heart
into my cup, creating
my very own recipe.
sipping on it gives me
a strange delight.
where is my love?
my mind is hazy,
my vision blurry.
the wine from my veins
and the wine from
my lilacs leave steins
of red on my paling skin
and my now ruined dress.
i have drunk much more
than i ought to which
leaves me in a
moonstruck craze.
crying out for you,
my love. in the midnight
hours under the low
hanging flowers of the
lilac tree, silhouetted by
the moon, my self returns
to me in shadow, but still
i wait for you, my love to
accompany me and my
bleeding heart. drink
from my recipe,where
the blood of the lilac
tree and the wine
of my heart have mixed.
drink what's left in my
cup, may it be half full
or half empty.
for my wine has stained
my pale skin and pale dress.
while stein of lilacs on
my blueing lips remain
as an eternal kiss.
while my heart stops
producing its wine
my chilling corpse
still waits for you, my love
under the lilac tree
in the glow of the
cool, pale moon.
YOU ARE READING
Among The Wildflowers
Poetrythe weeds of thoughts that have taken over my mind and put into words to the best of my ability. this is a call to nature and all that is. beauty in art, art in beauty. check out 'The Rose and Her Thorns.' ••• poetry collection explicit language a...
