She Is My Poetry

I write through the words I could not speak,

for every teardrop, lying on her lonely lips;

she is my sunset before night comes awake,

she is my poetry, in my dreams, when I sleep.

I write on the silence embraced by the night,

for every hope, foresee but strength to move;

I cast myself, away from the shadows of life,

she is my poetry, in my eyes, when I love.

I write those heartaches she tried to seclude,

for every doubt, which ever maimed her feet;

she is a one perfect love story to be told,

she is my poetry, in my grave, on my death.

Copyright *Jelord Klinn Cabresos @2012