Flower dragon

poem by: Derek Vincent
Written on Apr 02, 2015

Whenever endeavor i close my eyes tight.
When opened i'm blinded by light shining so bright.
"They say love is poor, they say love is pure."
I do not care for amour.
Love is a pheromone as it were.
No need to worry I have fallen for another.
Out of all the rest she is one I prefer.
I have fallen for her once before.
Her love for me i believe is no more.
Love is dead but it's in my head.
She is always in my dreams when i'm in bed.
My fallacies are never sensual.
In her eyes alone she is beautiful.
Everyone has their flaw.
She is my only awe.
To me she is hyperopic.
I could preach for hours with her as my topic.
Torn between love and truth i'm an oxymoron.
I am her fidelic myrmidon. 
Love from the heart is a chemical; not reality.
For true love is based on fidelity.
I would never leave her as casualty.
I would only stay with purity.
Like rain she is my flurry.
Like shining light she leaves my sight blurry.
I fell in love with a women that day.
I could never find enough words to describe how I feel.
Around her I tense and my flesh starts to peel.
Whenever I gaze upon her my eyes and lips implode.
My heart beats so fast I think it might explode.
There is not a day I don't infatuate.
But every time I tried to speak I would procrastinate.
I wish to get to know her better.
But now i'm far away so it doesn't matter.
She will always be my Sheral Teges.
Although she's probably out of my league. 
With each passing day it feels she becomes further and further.
Despite my philosophy I don't want to forget her.
Although i understand that life isn't black and white.
I have only the ideas of her to write.
If she does say yes she would only feed my vice.
However to say i love you I would never think twice.
She has to be the daughter of Aphrodite.
In prayer she is my deity.
She is my only religion.
I am just a pesky pigeon.
She is my "Black Veil Dove."
I would soar with her high up above.
My emotions I do not wish to show.
As long as we're together i would never go.
Alas it is a shame I will never know.
She is gone forever I am surely so.
She is my butterfly's silhouette.
She is the nicotine in my cigarette.
Used only as a metaphor for I do not smoke.
My love for her is lethal and that's no joke.
She is a living breathing lightning bolt.
When she touches she gives my heart a jolt.
Oh how I would enjoy basking in her sun.
It is a dream of serenity; not fun.
Even though I seem not to care.
Thoughts of her hurt maim me in despair.
Although I maintain placid.
She streaks in every facade.
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Tags: happy, love, deep, abstract,

 

 

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