imickeyd:(Thank you Tumblr)
Nicole - Peter Coulson
The portrait of you
Phantom dreams led me
to you. You were my illusion of perfection. I was flattered when you
condemn me to loving you forever by a gesture of hello and releasing
your veil of perfection. You create nuptial dances into early mornings
and create portraits of never-ending love into the German Winter nights.
I recited poetry to you, deep into the midnight hours. We
found the charity of peace and harmony enough to warm up the cold days
and nights of the German Winter. Beneath the Spring moon. The utopia of
love fell to earth. I learn the hollow heart cannot be seen when
camouflage by the perfection of beauty. I learn beauty wasn’t
perfection.
Just a asylum of wishes and wants to diminish and condemn hopeful men to want, what they should not need.
Old
men in the old taverns talks of old wars and beautiful woman. The
painful memories become less with time and separation. Old men will
paint with words portraits of woman, siren or muse. As dances they would
repeat again. They would tell you. Better to know heaven and hell than
have phantom dreams never attempted.
Coyote/John castellenas