Monday, June 8, 2015

by Stormcat

Now I am the one who's sadness is
facing the long night alone I wish
to lay my head on you and drift into oblivion I want
to never complain when I go to my closet and
find no shirts to wear because you stole them.
There is gold in that flash
Alchemists and lovers know
when hearts are fired on ash of bone
to decontaminate of lead the gold
at juncture's purest fires comprise a blick.
Spontaneous sudden generation
is neither the origin of love nor revolution.
Revolution grows from a seed
planted in the soils of despair, fear, and chaos.
A seed that albeit of hope
deepens into horrific action.
But love grows from a seed of Admiration
planted in the soils of hope
that deepens into trust, loyalty, and respect.
Yet the deepening of love also demands a richness
of variety, quality, and complementarity
that fulfills the synergy expected.
When I write about confusing things
I write confusion
I have no answers. Only questions.
You do not fear me because I am people
nor because I am a man.
You don't even fear me
because I ask for a relationship.
Your fears run deeper
than can be explained so simply
You fear me because I ask
But I offer everything as well . . .
Isn't that the essence of deepening love.

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