A passion nightmare, and I see it all so clear. Nothing but shattered dreams she calls to me, woman so weary. The torment is, that in the weight of a stare. Disappear in the road before, and lead me here, to recognize the weight of her stare. Was I to blame for being unfair? A long long time to be waiting here, the stone glare. At the edge of the path a psycho at hand, the path where you held out your hand.
It’s getting hard nowadays, and going the distance getting strong now. I reckon my weary woman’s issues to be or not to be. The road has been to her front doors open for the night. And, just in time she arrived.
Yours Truly,
Mr. Moonlight
PS From your beam, I dream.
About the Creator
Paul Noel Cimino
I am a spontaneous spiritual artist
I seek to find answers in the art and writing I create.
I like to express it to my heart and make it come true.
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Honolulu Tropics
As the Sun has taken its rest, I have my holidays at last. To lay back, and dream to a tropic night violet bright. She is doing fine and, independent beautiful with a serene light of total day to be still. Raining, and still dreaming, sunlight, and sipping my tea.
By Paul Noel Cimino5 years ago in Poets
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