Mortem | 3. The One That Comes From Inside
The One That Comes From Inside
Perhaps I was sick yesterday, lying
in bed, honey, believe me I am trying.
But oh, where is the remedy you wonder?
Yours are the passion lips, making me younger.
Perhaps I felt a little at the edge last night,
We all have days that cast a dark blight.
But oh, to deliver a bundle of joy?
Is to have a glimpse of your lips to enjoy.
Perhaps, I was a little over the moon last night,
How can a man not be when he wakes up to your sight?
Atop his throne, even the God itself is jealous,
For I pray and see, your lips I become zealous.
For a man to wake up every day with such
marvelous lips heating his cheeks is a
fortune that he shan’t fathom, ever.
But willingly, gladly, I put my mind to rest
for it is my heart your lips bless.
Let the blood gush into where,
and may I say everywhere, your lips touch
and make it all red, hot, lively, again.
With its sorrows and joys, its tension and calm,
I embrace them and have no qualms,
For as long as they are yours,
endlessly my heart stores,
the undying flame
Je t'aime.
Everyone scratches some words into the walls of their heart when they are young.
What turns us into poets is the fact that we keep writing.
Even in death.
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