Golden love
In hues all golden
like a long desired dreamt of child
as innocent as newborn,
always positive and full of life –
where does that inner beauty come from
that outshines the sun and make all clouds disperse,
a joy of simply being what you are in glorious independence,
and yet nothing is what it appears to seem,
there is a front completely hiding abysses of worrying desperation
like a poker face, which you can't know
if its expressionlessness hides a full hand or just misery.
But souls know better human hearts than outward shows,
and we knew well each other from the start
like two lost souls diverted many centuries ago
to find themselves on mutual path by chance again
like a lost thread of fortune suddenly revealed and rediscovered
to be recommenced and now continued on a fresh start
right into the ever circulating spiral of eternity
to once again engulf us in its course
on yet another round of this intriguing game
of love unto infinity.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2007-05-21 at 14:50
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