Love Weaves into a knights tale
To find his love
He must find himself
The universe will test at every turn
In cracks where the darkest shadows dwell
To strengthen his spirit
To sharpen his steel
Yet his shining armour
Does not hide
His burning heart
That flames inside
For true love echos
Compels him on

the saddest part of dying
is what you forgot to do
the ideas born in lucid dreams
that vanished in the hue
the mountains never seen
the oceans never crossed
the poems written on scraps of paper
a lover's smile now lost
the tears you held inside
the chances never taken
the landscape of your life
an oasis now forsaken

Two Lost and Found butterflies.
Tears rolling down.

The most rewarding scenery is the landscape of the lovers innermost feelings and emotions  for each other and both twin butterflies.
Surely a twin's true love that never failed, even bottled in a dark dungeon- it still holds evidence of greatest reigns plotted since eges past.
Like a diamond polished, unworned by its true queen.
Its still a diamond grown in greatest friction and much heat.
A fire burning for the longest time.
Yes it may now be in the finger of the greedy liar divider murderer
on speed.
The evil trashing defamatrex
Is still a great Impostor
****** a true queen bee's,
first landscape pradise.
Forgive my metaphorical poor grade here.
I am still no poetess
Just a tragic true life kinder Garten observer of sorts.
A possible self portrait of loss and undying grief
Drowning in true events that inexplicably give me life worth living.
Its essence,the magic of true love, lost and found, found and lost,
And against all odds,retained wiithin its infinite truth
poweted only by eternal love and gratitud.
I remain in love, my beloved's
pure loves ashes,
that heals me to my core

And I'm no longer lost nor alone.
My lonely thorny crooked path,
i have left behind.
--------
By: Karijinbba
Mr and Mrs Andrews the oainting.
Rddbba All Rights Reserved.

no matter the cause
of your tears

whatever the hurt
which bruises your heart

for any terror
that haunts you

it is a grief to me
that you should suffer so

the girls I danced with
I never wrote songs about

the girls I kissed under bursts of fireworks
I never won carnival prizes for

the girls I entered the sheets with
I never made a deeper connection

the girls who gave me their best
I never understood their motives

and I wondered where they all went and
why we parted ways like cathedral doors
and why they took the hand of other monsters and vanished into the night.

I was too naive to notice
all the red flags waving behind me
and too dense to turn around
and open my eyes.

but now I face this dry vacancy
and I see they’re
intertwined with their domestics
constricted with their marriages
taunting their husbands
commanding their boyfriends
obsessed with their photo albums
cramming belief and guidance into their children

its the same unabridged story
told over and over
and over and over
again.

I too, sit with this adverse outcome:
this one wants me to quit drinking
and that one wants me on a diet
and this one wants me to get a better job
and that one wants me to exercise more.

I’ve never been one to rest on my laurels,
but as I lay down in this bed with this one
like so many buried cold beneath the Earth,
I can’t stop thinking of those angels from my past that have flown off into other heavens.

I was never deserving
of their time nor
their presence

and I am neither
here nor
there.

I searched the face of the hollow man
as I drove the dagger through his empty heart
drained by love given
but not replaced
he cried to me
conceiving his defeat
to shield his soul from the pangs of living
the blood of fleeing life
and the tears of anguish
fell in drops
to the time-worn floor of the dismal room

a light breeze eased the curtain aside
a blinking hotel sign
revealed a dead man
lying beneath a mirror
smeared with blood
dried to the image of a stretched palm
many hours later