victor roy

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Aesthetic Love

In this yawning night,
When stars r few but the moon is bright,
While the bucolic wind environs my hand,
I miss ur name in this hearty sand...
The inebriated stomach and smoky lungs,
Recalls all the colloquies and miticulous puns,
Evokes futile blood from the throat and brain,
Leaving a tranical imbroglio in all of my vein...
The pledge of nt ruminating those days,
Says,
That whatever you have,
A slight tickle,
Or a heart-out giggle...
In this fairy maze, fine,
Will remain forever mine...
The advent of my end is indicated,
From the fall-out of the charred heart,
I cn clearly feel the pain,
As the pangs still dart....
But I shall never stall,
Like the storms never fall,
Like a singe in mah all,
Like the blaze within me, reticence, ennui, like an endles sea....
The scald wil never heal,
And that will kill,
All the love, permanent,
Under this azure firmament......

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