Victor

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Over the horizon I can hear the battle-cry,

See the tiny red flag you wave at our enemies.

Your chariot, splattered with the blood and soil,

Brings me back your sweat, and an end to my wait.

Our home’s been desolate, dusty, your guitar.

My incomplete letters fills my desk,

Letters, I wouldn’t send you to bring you home.

It’s our world, I know your fighting for,

I must be selfless, but how can I be?

Your shirt, I wear to bed, at night,

Your scent lulls me asleep, and dreams.

The ghostly  us, happy and together is one.

The cries sound nearer, the flag grows bigger.

I wish it wasn’t a dream, and it was really you,

Coming home, a victor.

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A Moment

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Here I tried writing something…so here it goes :-

My eyes wish to behold, again and yet again, the grace with which, thee, my sweet lordship, unfold thy deepest, most wondrous mysteries. My fingers wish to trace your fair skin, under which the blue veins snake their way through your flesh, more fragrant than all of Persephone’s grove, by far worth more than Hades’ treasure trove…

And it’s thy heart, made of the densest gold, harder than the hardest diamond, but it’s just that I wish to win. Thy lips, that speak so much, thy eyes, express. I wish to smoothe out that delicate tensed brow. I wish to sort through your beautiful long lashes and to fill thy sweet mouth with gentle kisses. And there lying around in some far away meadow, shall we have our sweet recess. We will share little sweet promises, sweet little breaths exchanged. How, lying there on the warm, moist grass we would make wagers on our lives.

It’s a sport of young lovers, such as ourselves to let Passion, Love’s hot headed brother override our sane rational minds. Take oblique decisions, the orders, our hearts fail to obey. I know this will someday end, the rat race of passion and morals clashing will end one day. Like thee, ever so gentle, so noble, may someday just walk away, for my goodness’ sake. But it’ll be me here, rooted to the scent of this meadow, and the lingering aftertaste of your kiss on my tongue.

I’ve really attempted to write prose after a really long time. Could use an opinion if anyone could offer any regarding the progress of the piece. Thanks.