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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1606612-at-last-we-touch
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Death · #1606612
a tale of lovers not to be, or be!
what is it about taking a chance on love. Why does fear have a place in something that can be so wonderful. Am i not at a place now in my life wanting to over-come this intruder of defiant capabilities of intimate connections. My lover is desperate to be touched, held with the thoughts and emotions of my turbulent heart. And i stand here already defeated in my quest to love and be loved. Is it the haunting of a failed relationship, a nightmare of what may come. What is this demon seed that sits within my soul and blocks the intentions of her warm kisses. Many a lovers i have laid with tender not the feel of their tongue. Cold and distant the touch of such short term wanting. Perhaps in that moment of lust. It gave my body release but neigh not my mind, my heart, my soul. This is the rub, to be spat upon by fellow men at the announcements of these words, i love her.


Tis this thy only chance at my hand resting against her places longing to be touched. Her dreams of our future together. Why then this damned argument within my mind, this double voice without a reason to flee such an angel. What posses a man to have such thoughts not allowing himself to caress life its self. Nay i weep for those moments in rapture as i lay nurtured and comforted by her mere presence. Then why i cry out does this nightmare keep plaguing me. Do i not deserve such an adventure. Am i not capable of risk when i slay the dragon. cage the tiger, put out the firers of hell it's self. Then why does my courage fail me now to speak these five words. It is you i love! Why must my tongue be so tide when she approaches. Her gate setting the pace for my own heart it seems. The faster her cadence the quicker my heart leaps to her.


Tis the night that is my worst enemy. For she i know lay there in a bed warm and inviting while i lay here in quite contemplation amongst the horse and hay. like a dog waiting for it's bone i too a wait the sun to rise to see her face once more shine within the city. Her smile so bright it is the sun who now is compared to the likes of her essence. And what does one say to such an angel of heavenly delight. To even speak the words of morning greeting pails to the desirer of the eternal aching in this empty carcass of skin and bones. To gaze upon such beauty i am told could turn the strongest of men to the liking of a wet rope. No stud or steed has ever found such humbleness in their pursuit of a mate no matter the time nor reason. And yet the stud and the steed as well as i have blood that boils as the females dance and sing their songs of persuasions. It is i the fool and not the animal for the beast does not contemplate these reasons of insanity. The eagle dances with its partner for life without question. even while they make the music of loin and desirer they fall far from the stars clinging to each-other until the act of their love is complete. And yet i the fool, the jester, the idiot dare not to take one step let alone a life time of steps to be by her side.


will this emotional yearning have no final destiny other then the holdings buried deep in my hallowed shell of existence. What magic blackened a tomorrow with the curse of an angry wizard or warlock besieged by jealousy of such as this young maiden. What wonderment's of spells and convents will assist my fortune and be placed within my hands to slay this invincible dragon of thought and time. For if need be i will travel backwards setting the sands of the hour glass upwards and change her destiny to cross paths with mine. It is of this capacity i am only able to dream for i have no magic beans to lay onto the scale paying for this contract with the three sisters of fate.


The gold i cherish is of wit and laughter and not of earth and value . With such little to weigh my worthiness with how can i claim to be worth the sacrificed mammals that have been dropped down on the floors of her father's dwelling.
I not having not one hair nor feather to put in its place. Such twisted moments this tomorrow has not offering hope for she soon will be placed in the hands of another.. As i lay my wrist next to this brook it is with great pleading i ask my blood drain quickly from thy arm and swim with the finned and the webbed alike. Let this plague be over fast and painless for the suffering placed in my life has been more than enough to create the aching of an eternity. Let thy blade be sharp and thy death be silent. I pray before these eyes i have viewed my world close one last final time the vision of her is placed on the canvas of my ever after.
For she to me was my world, is my world, and will remain to be as long as the gods have placed the stars and moon in the black vail of midnight







if this day be the final days of my shadow. no longer will it cast its darkness over the grounds surface. No box will be needed for i desirer to be cast out and over each cobble stone, each scattered pebble, each rock set in place to make the hill a mountain. let my grave not be dug out in soil, Let it be placed ever so lightly in the wind as it carries me once more within my lovers reach. Then only shall we touch once again without the threats of the steel blade or noose within the fallen circle of the old weeping willow. Tis this final act that no one will ever put haste nor judgement of this mans life. Gentle kind words may now flow eloquently from the lips who have lost this precious and misunderstood story of whom i was to her and what she meant to me.. No longer the tongues of old hags be forked with both their approvals of young love, and the laughter in their throats of the fate of the peasant boy who has fallen for the hand of another. Mock me no more you dried up maidens of no virtue for your bosoms are filled with distrust and deceit. The wine i sip is from the lips of my love and sweet is its quenching of my thirst. the bitter taste of your past shared with me as we lay in the fields no longer have place in this mind. Drunken was my youth as it spanned out of control. The loves i thought to be true just fleeting moments of a beverage that brought hidden desirers of lust and wanting. These things i thought once then no longer serve me in my last breath. She is the only time i recall as my blood clouds these pure waters that travel from brook and creek to the rivers veins. At last i am a sailor who has set his own ship of misfortune in the opposing direction and have changed my destiny. No longer is the wind a storm of misdirection for it has transformed yet into a gentle breeze bringing me closer to her side. The kings and queens of land and water have no power in the journey i am on. The guards of confinement are only apparitions and not steel nor stone and no longer block the gates to heaven. Soon i will sit by my loves side. Out stretched is her hand waiting for her true lovers touch. I will not disappoint her with the need of a beating heart when it is my soul she longs to claim. Without hesitation my bond with her be that of which lasts the length of the universe. As many stars shine tonight so shall it be the number of the kisses i place on her body. Shinning is this moon in a full circle reflecting our path. Once more i cry out not in fear no longer but impatience of my timely death. it seems this moment be the longest of my life as i lay here wet and cold, these waters red with color. When shall this lasting sleep rest my worries of a day she weds another.








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