You

You are untouched soil from a forgotten forest, fertile and flourishing with expanding growths, rootless to the departing of seasons. Glass winged butterflies, that hum and reflect the tune of a blossoming soul, flicker beneath split open twilight skies, fly above barren woodlands of destroyed daydreams, embodying wish filled seeds, fluttering reachable realities into budding mortalities.

Below prismatic paradise’s, rhapsodical gardens blossom, as pomegranate rivers flow sweeter than nirvanas honeyed streams. The cosmos sculpted your destiny designed silhouette, that’s emblazoned in ancient trinkets. There’s nothing on earth that shines brighter than your worth. A crown lays amongst raven hair and alabaster bones, as your tears free a frozen lakes last exhaling breeze. Your laugh lifts my feet from the chuckles of souls buried beneath me.

Everlasting tangles in the shades of your love, I sit in silence listening to the wind that carries the heartbeats of your mythological heart, unraveling the desolate stories of beloved lives separated by reconciling constellations. If immortality could be illustrated with calligraphic scriptures, your birth would reveal infinite admirations through metaphoric manuscripts of an eternal infatuation.