Prismatic Petal
The hardest thing to do is love you from afar,
sitting helplessly,
tormented in two.
My mind sends out phantom hugs and kisses in the wind
in hopes they reach you,
to your will(- o' the wisp)
that haunts me in a thick chain of fog;
and you are elusive.
I chase the light that you are,
moaning to the shrills of the banshee,
deep within the swamps that corrupt my mind
with natural impurities of methane thoughts.
Wading through the foulest of slime
and braving the leeches of time,
that drains my life along the journey,
to your everylasting light
that may disappear in the twinkle of an eye.
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