When Shall I meet her? (The Nights of a Troubled Man)

It was a beautiful silent night.
A scorchingly chilly night of character.
Galaxies of Stars,
With Curvy and Shapely bosoms, flaunts lustful beauties,
By means of endless glory and many colours.
Such beauties my eyes have never seen.

As the Night sigh,
Bird’s food labour and rhythms, the dark fades away.
A Perfect night emerge,
Except for the thoughts in my head___ The Girl I love.

I cannot see her. I do not know her yet.
But I can see her.
For I know her through my craggy lil’ ancient pen.

Love or lust, I cannot tell. But I woke the two up,
And with the passion of a ready-writer,
Burning midnight oil from north to south for education,
Or a city ruined with Leviathan fire and brimstone,

I searched deep my private sanctum,
And inked unfathomably of my deepest affection,
If not my weakness or mortal fear of “when”

Bedtime! Bedtime! My sleepie eyes
Conjure magic on my reasoning.
Not without asking Heaven if she longs for me like I do you.

My heart grows fondest of you even in absence, but for how long?
When shall I meet her? When shall I see her?


Inspired by Loneliness
Feb 09, 2012
07:08pm