He hyacinth blood and oxy colore, wild mind and baby skin.
She absent heart and lullabye luller, dangerous lips of siren sin.
He nightshade deadly and wicked ways, different tastes with foreign tongues.
She pleasant incarnate and strawberry dream and barely alive with serpent lungs.
Burning flame and whistling wind, I summon power with brazen trust.
Mothering Earth, now flow your waves from tear to sea, and death to dust.
He rosemary scent and lavender tone, compelling words speak soften voice.
She razor sharp from hyacinth veins, heavy her shoulders from a stoney hoist.
Flowering soul from nectar bee, as some will sting to only die.
Blossom the bloom from pointless death, as all alone shall some they fly..Hyacinth.
She deadly in ways, which one can’t imagine.
He’s new to the sight, though remains old fashioned.
She’s lights under cameras, but none of the action.
When he tells you he loves you, he gets no reaction.
Maroon red roses are dripping blood down their thorns.
She hyacinth heart with long pointy horns.
Even with seeds planted in his chest, flowers eventually wilt and expire.
Not even I know what’s next, she became the flame, but he started the fire.. Hyacinth..
About the Creator
Desmond Razzano
My name is Desmond, and I have a love and passion for writing of all kinds, especially poetry! Most of the content I write about reflects more of my experiences and my pain, and my joy! Every entry or story I post was written by me.
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