As I am

Every song has a chorus that many will listen to, but only one will cherish forever.

​Rather than a name,

I was invited as a presence.

Passionate,

I would unveil your heart of white snow and cloth you in flame.

Awaiting pensive smiles, 

to compliment the whispering of confessions,

that put ease to the absence of what you had always looked for.

Gentle,

with lyrics that sing the songs your heart always wanted to,

but never knew the rhythm. 

The chorus vibrant in the storm of our lips. 

It is midsummer,

the air is cold and tragic with the song of Dawn's Poet.

Every poem rehearsing forgotten tragedies. 

Hopeful,

seems to be all I know. 

At least I remain thus.

It is all I give, 

and receive only agonizing lamentations of the heart.

My heart,

imagines a love, 

that commands my soul to believe.

Believe in the lips that will caress my name,

like songs caress the chorus with selfish privacy.

But my song,

unique as it is, 

remains in harmony with sleeping nightingales.