Amaranth
This poem was written before I took the name Amaranth... It was about a girl whom I loved very much.... Until I made a huge mistake, and she left me... Now I miss her very much. Either way it is irrelevant. I want comments on the peom itself... Nothing else.
Amaranth
Decadence reigns the waking thought, and morning never comes.
Mourning actions, regretting misdeeds, a-plenty...
In sorrow, a shadow, a dark place, residing within the mind.
Then was spied, and wonderous beauty, a lustre, second to none.
The light of purity, a brilliance, untampered with, superb.
Always I sit, and wait, in wonder of this flower's span...
Thirty years I have watched. Amaranth, beautiful as eternity...
Simple as life, just a dream. A dream of reality, a sparkle of creation.
Always I am here, fulfilled, though without sustenance.
Many days pass, losing reality, a touch of psychotic dominance.
I reach for the flower, and over millennia it seems to traverse...
I no longer possess sight, but complete, do I feel.
As the amaranth and I intertwine.
We slowly become one, and the dawn seems to come.
And in the radiant beauty I bask. Not nearly as beautiful, and far less indeed...
I rest with her eternal, I, an amaranth.
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