Prose 13 - HisS of LoVe

 It lives within me, so many types of it, from A to Z I could say, I love the way I am having it. No one can stop me from having different perspectives on love. Love once was a mist that abloom by the heat of emotions that I seldom buried along my crocheted jovial heart. It runs all over me, like a river that flows inexorably form different directions, and ends up to the white pan ocean (my breath). I wish I could feel the love, that needs reaction from two souls, between me and you. But tears, regrets and sorry would pay for everything that love upfront with. 
I wonder how would love could make me detach me from loving God more, sure it would be an inane mind would ever do it erratically. Its not an option, but love will make me to wait the breeze of someone that I love, billion miles away, by the lunette, rochetted me along the unbreakable hiss through the silent night. I would lay on my bed, thinking about you, someone that won't be exist, laid my viscus back on the howling bed, full of violet verbena.

Beautiful love is too good to be true now, except His love. They are exist, but its hiding, like a paramour within a vein of all hunting souls. Those lucid eyes, beyond my igniting head, I wish it could abloom before the sunrise, upon the fortress. You are named love, everlastingly whisper unto me, for every moment that merge my eyes into your sight. I swear by the cloud that brought you in every atom of you, killing me flawless in those frameless shadow. If I had you, I would wall you from the mediocre and ail that prevails your lame beats like a black rose underneath my shoreless pillow. I do miss you, though I never had you. I felt so nervous each time you struck me within my adrenaline, like an ocean that freeze my sight. Whispering unto me with those shelter words and shattered woods, embrace me into a lustrous moment of you and me.

Dear love, You make me live in a glassy world where I need you by my side, shelter me all through the debauchee stormy night. You make me listen to those beads of bits in every sensational and melodious of those tones in such glossy sounds of your ceaseless buoyant rain drops. The bona fide in you, indeed are standing right beside my envious, jealousy, anguish, hunger, passion, colorless emotions to aflame my soarless thought.