To find this dream of mine,
Is to find the crystal clear waters of eternity
Wrapped in some forgotten tapestry
To which mine eyes can only see.
This is not but to the morrow that one can sense it
That one can feel the end of all things,
Lost in the desires that make poets weep,
Is the truth that can finally release these bounds of hell to heaven.
Take such a swim in this unrelenting memory
To beg of time to be in such replay
Do over those things that pain us so
I’d rather to be forgotten than to be remembered in such a way.
You cannot put your sweet head on my arm,
For to sting your mind so is to torture your soul
Such is relapse in some scene of swift tragedy,
Is such a delay of the sun from peeking beyond its horizon.
Formidable is the dew that settled on the hard ground this night,
Yet none compares to the light of Apollo’s love
Hold such light until it burst forth from all of you,
And do not let the darkness find your heart.
Do take my arm in yours, do feel my form before it dies,
Do hold the clouds before your eyes the brief time they are there,
Find that which is the love that you yourself have asked for,
And find you may never need ask again.