Missing
When shall we love again
on fragrant beds of roses
made of our creativeness
which never can take any break
for ease or pauses of good sleep
but always moves, continues and develops,
like some demon chasing us
from one love to another
but get always back into each others' arms?
I am your only lover,
since I am the only one to know your soul,
and I shall keep it as my own
and safeguard it within my bosom
to be faithful to our love for all eternity
since I am very well aware
that this obsession never can be stopped.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 444 times
Written on 2007-10-26 at 11:05
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