Autumn and Spring

She paused. He resumed. She was speechless. He offered explanations. She expected the best. He prepared for the worst. She was ignorant. He reciprocated kindness. She was the aura of Autumn. He believed her to be the glory of Spring. In this delusional world of calamity and hypocrisy, she knew he’d bow down to her altar every single day with faith in his heart, desire in his soul, light in his eyes and a prayer on his lips. She knew him to be an absolute non-believer before he began worshipping her inevitably invincible flaws. While he was merely a sculpture made from clay and sent to Earth, it was her that breathed life into his soulless existence. She was his religion, his temple and the dawn of hope serving as an anchor for his bruised soul drenched in sin and sorrow.

She thought to herself if the Lord would detest her for letting His creation believe in the apparent mightiness of another flawed being. However, her demons roared louder than the voice of her conscience, “Didn’t the Lord Himself proclaim that those who worship others do so albeit in an improper way?”

He had unknowingly found the will of his heart while she had found yet another prey.

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The taste of love, I tell you, is lethal.


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Born to be Loved

You were my master plan,
My eternity and my life span,
Nothing close to my imagination,
Nothing close to an ordinary man,
You were you,
A man dressed in blue,
For some reason,
I couldn’t see through,
A volcano erupting,
For I knew,
You were a man,
Born to be loved.

You were my everything,
My autumn and my spring,
The song I loved to sing,
Nothing close to the love I read about,
Nothing close to my fears and doubts,
You were you,
A man who knew the art,
For some reason,
I couldn’t stop my heart,
From falling,
From wanting,
From breaking,
The universe tore itself apart,
For this love I felt,
Nothing less than magic,
For I never knew,
It was unfortunate and tragic,
But what I always knew,
You were a man,
Born to be loved.