Poem ID: 028
Written date: 2017-09-11
Title: Beatitude

Seasons of hot and cold
Is what your made of
Whiter, brighter
Clouds are rendered offset
Jealous of your lips, intensely...
Wondrous is this self of mine
Ponders I, if I could ever be
Reason of your beatitude
Ponders I, if the sky's agony...
Be legacy of my shooting arrow
So far ever complete I was never
For we trail treacherously...
O' Unknown lands, mines shall tick
Yet beatitude you are...
Lowkeyly leading...
Earth to sky...

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