I Might Become A Dark Tale Of Myself... Poem by DEEP DARK SOUL POET

I come here every night
On the surface of this silent lake
On a desert sand pillow
At the top of a blue hill.

Full of flowers and palm leaves
Where life's wild orchids blooms
Like a hunter's poison arrow.

And I sleep serenely here
Atop of my bleeding cloud.

On the eternal dark road
A poem wears a sunshine smile
And speaks amber colour tales of love
Love that smells like sweet summer.

Hesitantly I look at my face
Drawn by invisible ink
The mystical darkness
And the poem breathes my breath.

It goes on exponentially
Until it becomes a distant star
Then it burns in the air to ash
Falling to the world to smash.

It falls on my face
My dark face
Drawn by the mystical darkness.

My garden of torrential water
And your the gentle rain
Blowing by the virginal wind
And the forbidden dance.

The lure, serenity, passion and
A taste of bitter almonds
The tides rise up, over and above
And I give up myself

Tied in chains and thorns
A cloth with stains of blood
To wrap all over my body
For now, then and forever...

Slowly I see the cloud is bleeding out
….and the poem

…….is dead.....!