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By Mekeshar Date: 2004 Jan 11 Comment on this Work [[2004.01.11.03.38.3203]] |
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I look at you and see the warrior that you are, the man-child. Old soul...yes...so very old yet younger than the first rays of the sun upon the dew. Untitled Opus I hear your words and your voice I sense your power and the arrogance that is the man that you are and I tremble wanting to know you. A piece of me tells me to go carefully be wary...do not trust. My gypsy soul says to me dance this dance... Raise my arms to the silver beacon that lights the night sky and allow myself to fly. Have our souls known one another? Have I slept in your arms in a time and place that came before now? Have we faced the dark that is within and conquered it or have we been mortal enemies warriors in battle. I long for the romance that was in times of old. Seduction. In a time when seduction was more than just a grasping in the theatre or a struggle at a door. When men knew how to win the hearts of their ladies. Have you seen La Belle Dame sans Merci? Will I be your Enchantress or will you Enchant me? Strong noble warrior You have battled your own demons and won against them. What path brings this crossing of stars? What dream was dreamt that manifested you? Fire King...Ancient Watcher Gabriel of the West? Raphael of the East? Who are you? Why have you come? I await this dance to see where it leads, what the day will bring. And with this last thought, I leave you to gather the petals of the rose and drink deeply of its nectar Sip the silver tear that courses down a downy cheek. Then when you lay in your bed and dream. Dream sweetly and sleep...my Love...sleep |