III

If I describe my lover,
It will be with the eyes I choose;
You will be purpled arrogance
When I am anger royal-
When the vortex is calmed,
You shall be gorgeous, mysterious,
More metaphor than man,
For I see how
The misled mislead
With themselves
At the helm,
The power again to say
“Yes” when it means
‘No’, and negative to paint
The lying positive below;
Thus I was one
When I had no choice;
For now, time has stilled
Upon the bridges
Of my bleeding heart,
Still, let the sense be shortly
Procured- only if we have
Chosen to be this sensible,
Not from the twisted,
Wherein, insanity is richer,
Richer than words
For man’s gain.
It is the inclement
Oceans of sludge and sea
Wherein are beheld
Such jewels that only can be
Plucked,
Struck by one who knows
Where forever goes;

The End

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