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Monarch Heart

Author: Mwa Ha Ha Ha Ha
ASL Info:    19/m/Washington
Elite Ratio:    8 - 389 /414 /73
Words: 216
Class/Type: Poetry /Love
Total Views: 1215
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 1460


An old poem I wrote for a girl I am no longer with... just felt like posting something after being away for so long

Monarch Heart

You Span my life, a living Kingdom,
Ruled and revolving around my queen.
From Summer sets, to moonlight rise,
Serene, I dub thee, darling dream.

And Christened, my name in love lit light
For Bless-ed be in your stately night
That luminescence in lovers' eyes
Forged from black, a burning white.

Elysian throne, I compose for thee,
That dulcet air recieve you fair.
Set down your spirit, save your soul,
For all is answered in the eve of prayer

This nectar sweet from Arcadian flow,
Undetoured past the great unknown.
To taste the grace from the Empress Race
I pursue my drift through pure plateau

Kingdom Heaven, In the court of lace,
Glamour, define my golden one.
Replace thine eye with lovers' lust
And direct thy mirror toward the sun

For reflected upon her Monarch heart,
A star shine bristling work of art.
As Her Highness strikes the will of light,
My soul, sweet sovereign, to you impart.

The Ancient Kings and Queens of yore,
The Duke, his Duchess, and noble Lords
Diminish in worth before our mirth
For ours is a nature untold in lore.

This unsung tale, our fantasy,
Dipped in gold through woven dream,
Release the bonds of reality,
For Kingdom come with you my Queen

Submitted on 2007-11-24 22:35:32     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  Isn't it romantic when you find yourself engulfed in your world? It's a pathetic perception of the subject, none the less true.

Why does it always seem like it's not about you, when really, it is? Humans have this gift for being oblivious and aware at the same time, though like pandora's beauty, it comes with an awful vice. If you take a holistic look at love, it reflects who we are best, I find. It's prettiest when, and only, it is short lived. If a baby dies after just seeing the light of day, he is pure is he not? He's not had time to commit sin, to wrong anybody, or to lose anything. The same can be said for love. Sadly, though we are aware of this fact, we whimsically fancy keeping it around longer and longer, engendering its decadence. We take love like a virgin, decimate chastity, and relish more and more, until like a ripening apple, it shrivels away. What do we do when this happens? We look at it in utter dismay, zip up our pants and scream: "HERESY!"

Love isn't a push and tug influence, though we like to think elsewise since we enjoy the hubris thought of power. Doesn't it just make your head want to burst?

And then it goes to "waste," meets its end. (Love that is) and we sit there and pity ourselves... Pathetically lingering grubs, germinating in the rotting fetid corpulence of love... Would you sleep with your lover's dead body (as in beside it, as she lay dead) loving it, caressing it?

Nothing makes you more insane than love, nothing makes you more modest (therein audacious), more tactful (blind), even more fervently religious (immorally vile) than the beast (or beauty) called passion.

I wonder why you weren't tempted to change the title too "Phoenix Heart"... I did enjoy this.. Read.

| Posted on 2007-11-24 00:00:00 | by Outlaw | [ Reply to This ]

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