Guilt
Beauty is a god, and you are its temple; a monument constructed in the passion of its belief.
Grace is a province, and you are its capital; an elegant representation built in the lush valley of its heart.
Passion is a thread of silk bleeding from your fingertips to entwine your lover.
Mystery is the lustrous sparkle in your eyes that draws me in, to seek the enigma beyond your smile.
Inspiration is your voice, lifting my heart and chasing away the darkness of doubt and fear.
There are moments when I feel so overwhelmed that I cannot speak or write a word; moments where gods of beauty and passion live and walk at my side; moments where I hold my breath for fear I might disturb its fragile innocence.
If I can touch it, is it real? If it lives and breathes, is it alive? I want to tempt fate for a touch, and feel the silk of your skin beneath my fingertips. I fancy your embrace, and yearn to lace my arms around you, to feel your warmth press against my body.
But I exhale and you are gone, like a moonlit spirit. I open my eyes and the ceiling spins above me. Your apparition dances in the corners of my consciousness as the dream fades. Guilt and I are here alone.
Grace is a province, and you are its capital; an elegant representation built in the lush valley of its heart.
Passion is a thread of silk bleeding from your fingertips to entwine your lover.
Mystery is the lustrous sparkle in your eyes that draws me in, to seek the enigma beyond your smile.
Inspiration is your voice, lifting my heart and chasing away the darkness of doubt and fear.
There are moments when I feel so overwhelmed that I cannot speak or write a word; moments where gods of beauty and passion live and walk at my side; moments where I hold my breath for fear I might disturb its fragile innocence.
If I can touch it, is it real? If it lives and breathes, is it alive? I want to tempt fate for a touch, and feel the silk of your skin beneath my fingertips. I fancy your embrace, and yearn to lace my arms around you, to feel your warmth press against my body.
But I exhale and you are gone, like a moonlit spirit. I open my eyes and the ceiling spins above me. Your apparition dances in the corners of my consciousness as the dream fades. Guilt and I are here alone.