Was it really the case at the old cottage he inherited from his step father?
roars of compassion…
Get mind scan.
Chose panic or happiness once at a time..
Attentive to shades, any color would do..
Unless the wind blows, you are stuck in mud
I’d desire freaking sad eyes…
a phenomenal tragedy keeps you awake…
Madness pay attention to the mermaid as she screams…fallin…alone …
Inspired illusion of sadness..
Thus lovin senseless birthday present;
a bracelet, stained, blurred, cracked by tears.
Mermaid, adored bracelets around your tiny belly
At dawn, you tend to scream it out;
Stay hear youth, hate you dying…every night.
Leaving him stained with colors of muddy sadness.
let him enjoy the blossoms of youth before tragedies panics his soul off.
Lately, or maybe since he was born, his father accused him of being the complicated son. Is it so? He always wondered. He sees himself as a natural simple young man in his early twenty’s. Yes, till now he did not fall in love, a love that he always craved for. Just a second, what about Sara? She is lovely, pretty, red haired with a wet green eyes ever times they look at each others eyes.
Well, who cares as long as his mother supports him. To her, he is not the complicated son, it was his youngest brother who spend years threatening them that he would leave the house if his wishes were not fulfilled, keeping his mum forlorn all the time.
Talked to his mum about Sara, Son, she can pass by son for a cup of tea. Gosh, look at you baby, he adores her long red hair over the white top, how about playing our favorite smooth Jazz music and relax. Father still calling you complicated, yes dear, what may I say? I respected him when I was young. Now, after fifty-one, I am sorry to say that there were times I felt breathless. After all, as a complicated man, I love you so much Dad.
Is it irrelevant when she still insists for a divorce?
Is it so when he still shy away!
I am sorry; he said it a million times..
Faced with rejection a million times..
Down to the knees..no kindness in the night.
Eyes went dry in winter raining sky.
You are bountiful,,,useless.
Your skin is my paradise full of tress…
No more, those turned leaf less..
Generating sick mighty madness..
Changing your hair color, irrelevant.
Please me; hopeless.
Night’s curtain falls endlessly,
Blurred divorce images looms announcing the start of another journey.
Curiously expressing dully flares;
Rickety glares wading brown eyes;
Another mischievous foe;
Longing for ancient non-Serviceable sloppy relationship;
While sneaking to the basements..
Frozen, facing misty corners;
Soul plunged into clutter;
Apprehend my soul, my body;
Theme; Corrupted hostages;
Ravaged since birth;
As enamored with green-eyed lover;
her youth glares;
deep love Shimmers; paradoxically;
overwhelming enjoyable fury.
It has been years since we first met
Crazy times passed
Time is a miracle
by which, your arrogance fades
Excitement has gone dry
Eyes sparkles no more
Tears spoils the evenings
Hearts cry with doubts
Wishing the way home gets longer
Then get lost in a highway,
To another city, where he can be alone..
Loneliness might heal his bleeding lungs
Mornings might shine again..
On Curves coated with volcanic ash
An elegant wonder: What a partnership!
Time to book a ticket to a place where he can hear the sound of silence. From the airport, after three hours, Alfonzo reached a tiny abandoned village.
Yes, that is the place, he bumbled. I need to forget my misery. Somehow a part of it, pieces of seductive memories still calling my conscience. I feel hands in the air trapping my muscles day and night. I need to forget her shinny eyes, her tender skin, her splendor silky hair. Once this vacation is over, my moxie will evaporate. She will be right back to my arms. Never gonna be rotten again.