Envisioning.....


There's a strange greed,
in how this agony feeds,
Upon the wounded soul,
My words take heed,

 What be that distant,
reciprocal scent,
who, alike my apparent self,
is entangled in a veiled dissent?

 We seek refuge, 
from a suffocating deluge,
'neath the blanket of the night,
Calming down, as we think of the muse,

 And so I envision your image,
trespassing the brewing rage,
letting the virgin expressions unfurl,
as I pen my soul upon every page.......

 (c) S.S

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