Passion On A Broken Petal Poem by Wesongah David

The thought of you turns up at oddest of hours,
When the turbulent seas seem to settle at my laughter at most.

Left to the virgin planets like the little princes,
It is the pain and a void of loneliness dear little one.

The sullen moon illuminates a ruminant past,
A carved arch bowed from a palm island with only us.

In essence you settled a debit and saw dreams take to flight,
A clipped derrière sheathed to end a stolen dream.

In the midst of my innocence I came,
A discovered a paradise in you I got lost.

A stupor drenched to never awaken from,
Of girded sorrows no muse can tell of.

Of my woman in whom I crave,
Oh! Flesh summoned in the moist whispers loved.

A quenched thirst in unabashed shame,
Of infinite oblivion a jarred genie in a bottle.

There was the solitude of our infinite silences,
And there was the fortitude of your exhilarating love.

Ah! The pleasures, how could you rope me
In the abyss of your heart, and let me down on a free fall!

A bouquet of roses awaits a destiny,
The blooming briefs a green patch in the fields.

The tender piece of genius and ingenuity,
A black hole we merged, I never to come out!

Still insisting on eying the cold stare of the stars,
Pale pain engulfs the teary eyes I hath wrought unto self!

Left to an own treacherous end, on a forbidden path,
A leaning twist to a truth I can’t afford to come to terms with.

In an hour of lonely meditation, of intrepid thoughts in abundance,
I can fathom no further gloom in life than this.

It is the sad hour of precipitation, on a culpable platter of desolateness.
It is the sad hour of calling it a frill fearful departure.