In Veils

In Veils

The art of an Artist
Who sculpts wonders,
On an unreal Beauty
A Philomath ponders.

I shall grave myself
With burn of a boon:
Of a Fallen Peri,
Descended from moon.

She was a string
On a quiet violin,
Music in my veins
Played she like sin.

Breeze through veils;
Crossed her rose skin;
Pulled my breath away,
Her half shy grin.

Her honeyed voice
Incited my heart,
Shine in her eyes
Taught me an art.

I felt an untouched;
Dreamt an unseen;
I sung an unheard,
Kissed a death Queen.

Water, Air, Earth, Fire:
The blend of all four;
Was she a Heaven’s soul?
Or a beast to abhor.



3 Comments Add yours

  1. Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lone-Wisher says:

      Thanks a bunch!


    2. Lone-Wisher says:



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