Serah Over Matter

It begins with excitement, The moment I put pen to paper, To encore in prints what my heart feels for you, But words escapes me, expressions are lost, Words alone will not suffice. Like the quiet sound of whistling wind in a desert The biting cold at the start of winter, I feel the warmth of you at every moment, The sound of your voice is striking like the timepiece on the highest edifice. As the beauty in summer, I capture the start of life In your eyes, Melodies resonates in my ear as you whisper loving words to my hearing, I fail to once again capture your essence, You are more than I can ever posses, And words alone will not suffice.

Tis one of such commission, Requiring tact, wit and disjointed emotions. Write I must, of a distant season and love, A pleasant time which was not to be, but was best lost for both entwined.  Its all fair in the game of romance, The seething tears, lonely night was not all fair, That one should forfeit what was dear,  pretend years would obliterate, For a future not foretold. There is joy in pain, Reminisce in privy was the only succor to find, The glint of almond coloured eyes in laughter, Stolen moments of passion, secret getways to brave open rebuke that we ll be locked in appendages forever in milliseconds. Which you find now in the arms of another. Tis was better to have loved, To have stared deep into your soul once,  Cherishing every moment while we cross paths, Knowing the endeared value of friendship that now holds us bound forever, To love you like a brother, a past lover and friend.  Tis was better to loved you...