Synesthetic Elegy

thieved by dust of years,
still living dead between those tacit
yellow words
engraved in marble–
yet, yen for you tastes opiate
honeyed in flowery strings of elegy myrrh scent
hanging from a lifeless tree.
Come back for me love,
betray black n’ white
rooted in obituaries
and chronicles of life
that makes us forever gone;
await for a streaming dream
to evade night with flashing colors
so I can suit lyrics
that keep closing your absent eyes
for love is a time constant,
the slither of a passing moment
caught in lianas of wild ivy gloom;
a gazing thought
stumbled over my tombstone
that endlessly stings in a green agony
and bleeds aria
to its last drop–
turning back to the farewell kiss,
a dirge touch
propagated with silence of a frozen stare

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