The Mumbled Shrieks Of A Soft Delusion Poem by ... ...

I wish to write you a word, or two,
To paint the sky with a sliver of color,
That came not from above or below,
But from the throbbing of our hearts together,
Written on the immaculate mirrors of self imagery,
Glows a figure of brightness, of luminous treasure,
Humming a melody not of sounds but of intuition,
Melded into a pool of light breathing a living artistry,
That cannot be questioned through the insatiable armor,
Of a long gone knight purposely drawn to his mission,
As silence kisses the currents flowing through fantasy,
Traversed by a streak of enthralling shards of pleasure,
As they rejoin their distanced purpose and indecision,
Trickling along and around the picturesque statues of majesty,
Crying tears of starlit nights shared in a time of flickering glamor,
As the bleak vision of an inevitable disgust in a sickly corruption,
Travels through the teetering towers and thorns of a damned perpetuity,
To soar and find a destructive son and sun, of a deceptive enamor,
Cast down from his lofty throne resting in a celestial bask of treason,
I join you though the door of our love, into a garden of mystical infinity.