I consume my all alcoholic rhymes
when I see your reflection in moonlit
night
The minerva exists in splendid
paradise
but i long to march for heavenly
truth
the ascent of singing soul never
ceases
but misery of life always preaches
unto that reflection of your
persistent
I dive my dreams for beckoning
thoughts
when I stand upon your pageantry
facing towards north wind then i
sparse
my emotions with redolent feelings
I stare at your wide range
yearning to outcast my depressed
thoughts
then my dreaded nightmare
becomes mute.
An insightful poetic divertissement.
Thanks Sir Louis Kasatkin. Regards.