Desire

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  • Passion

    Desire

    Desire

    The night awakens and yearns
    Darkness closes in like lovers entwined
    Layers of silk unfold and are discarded
    Music drifts faintly on the breeze
    Candlelight plays with the shadows on the walls
    Voices whisper like the flicker of the flame
    Sighs moan; softly echoing to each corner
    Sheets ruffle gracefully with movement
    Bodies move in rhythm like dancers
    Heat rises; spreading like a mist over the mountain
    The air drinks as if it is thirsty not to be sated
    Desire is the soul’s gift

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    Bren5360’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Emerged in Water 0
    Mirror 0
    Meeting Under the Moon 0
    Desire 0