Requiem

When I shut my eyes, you become a coloured —

clouded lithograph, encased in the sagacious

frame of my philosophy

The whisper of my wordless soot — teared lashes,

painting you harmlessly out of my mind-storm

The caress of my amber gaze that clears a cobwebbed

room for you in the whitewashed palaces in my aeonian kingdom

The gentle touch, of the ageless truth — jaded, that

lives in the fairytale of my stoic phalange

The nights I spin into golden days, on the loom

of your heart-strung bleeding lute

The song that vapors onto the fragile glass of your heart,

as it hums, melodies of love, into your memory,

with the cruor coloured brush of my imagination

The lined versus I dream, as the mist

settles upon the noumena of your ego,

wringing lyrics of what the gods created you,

to be for me

The disciples solemn prayer, who worships

in the terranean temple of your world, as

my hymns unshackle you to enter paradise

My spirits voice that lives to do no harm,

that has defied death, that you should saltate

perpetual, in the love symposium, I

designed for you

The requiem that vibrates on the cords of your life,

gently willing you to live in mine

Reborn on a seamless gasp, as your memory awakens

in the chorales of the night —

and dies with the morning on the lips of our sighs.

Copyright ©. R Tsambounieri Talarantas. May 2019. All Rights Reserved.