Her prisms my heart bounds

She still permeates all of me, my love for her rises beyond the horizon of simplicity; it is wide, deep and long. There is no shortness about it- the memories of her is like the vision of Victoria Falls, like an undisturbed Beethoven symphony. Oh here I know the definition of longing for that which I cannot have but my eyes have seen and was satisfied. Broken-hearted, attempted to be mended by nymphs in cupid’s college. Still I rise to wake in hope with her to sleep but mortal dreams no stillness hold like name writ on tossing waters; wishing to be free to swim another sea but her prisms my heart bounds, no other Juliet for me than her. Painting a picture, all my sketches her theme abounds; far defining my gravity, in her law weeping a rain of sorrows before my subdued fall, her sweet name remembered long after deaths call by her sting of unconscious rejection.



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