I’m writing the poetry of fragile souls
Sitting quietly in the broken sunlight
Of hopeful but fleeting romance.
I’m gazing into the nearly tearful eyes
Of beautiful women paralyzed
By lost love or unhappy lives,
Waiting for kisses
That somehow missed their lips.
And I want to breathe in their rooms,
Be by their side through turbulent moods,
Find the key to unlock their dreams
Currently hidden in emotional vaults
Or shelved somewhere by men who don’t care.
And the feminine mystery of the eternal Goddess
Continues to relentlessly and mystically possess me,
Aphrodite guides me into pleasant meditation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.