Kiss Of A Tempest Poem by Nick F. Hawkins

She's a thief,
Somehow she managed
To steal my heart
Before the moon creeped,
The sun rose but the
Roses bleed amongst
The vexed breeze,
The darling buds of
May no longer smelled
Like the spring,
The more my mind
Springs to the memories
The more my third eye
Perceives that she wasn't
Meant for me,
Her tears appear
When we speak,
Yet my soul is set free,
I loved her consciousness
But we weren't meant to be,
Our last kiss was a Tempest
In the midst of a purple sea
Of sorrow and lost dreams