This Jargoned Love I hold

On love

He steps across empty rocks

As his dainty bare toes elope with

Each and every dry stone's

Gray mop stained hull

Their tops do drop and dip

Beneath the waters desert flat lid

That's stained dark as the blackest ink

~

His eyes bluer than any dreary lost night

Not simply of another masked color

But in a form he holds dearest

Lit up glowing those eyes became for me

As a beckoning bright lantern

Held up in the fog by a sullen mirage

Shaped as a mumbled mans mane

But harshly crafted of pessimistic fiery intent

That could be carried only by one made by

Old wrecked band branded gods

~

Many dull and blindly thought

Of the bold spangled man as a demon

But to my wronged self he's a simple love

Held dear to my wit and sought after

By my souls dearest affections