Love Poem: Drawn Heart Esquire
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Written by: Sotto Poet

Drawn Heart Esquire

Written: April 09, 2025, ************* I will be faithful and reveal to you the facts, You are mine in life and as soul, subtract. Because when I die, all fables will be seen, Your aesthetic gaze will murder my spleen! If every star dims away or expires, I should start to gaze at a blazing fire. And accept the complete dark sublime, However, this may require a bit of time. Your love transcends my ability to repay, I wish you abundant happiness, I pray. So, while we're living, let's pursue love, Then, even posthumously, life may shove. A silk ladder is extending across the vine, That one dangles precariously over the line. The tragic blend of your entrance and exit, Love you in a holistic manner, with no limit. She walks as beautifully as the night, With pristine expanses and twinkling skies. And all that is finest in dark and bright, Connected to her appearance and eyes; Such squashed by the gentle light, Which paradise to lavish day denies. I'll enumerate the forms I love you, I love you to the depths, scope, and view. When I feel adrift, my spirit can cope, For the sake of being an ideal scope. Concealed from all, love is a hidden flame, A delicate but piercing wound frame. an inherently wretched state of happiness, a raging pain that does not induce savviness. This is the eremite's never-ending wanderlust, Yours is the April-to-April love, modernist. I began to twirl long after you had gone, Your excited fingers point me to the drawn. The shimmering, one vast claiming heart, Esquire, who is both charming and smart. I am reliable; I will express to you what I mean, In both life and after death, you're my queen. Since all the truth will be unveiled once I die, Then, your two exquisite eyes will make me sigh. Nothing in this broad cosmos is single, In a shared spirit, all us gather and mingle. Love confines me and teaches me to care; You are the culprit, and you allow me to share. Helping me cope, you offer me hope, my dreams and aspirations began to slope. Life fills each season without a reason. a hollow life migrates with every season.