Love crept into a dark night,
Love whispered distant goodbyes,
Love kissed a forlorn heart a wet kiss,
Love just disappeared,
Love just got lost.
Love is lost to some handsome stranger,
Love is indeed lost to some beautiful belle, For ever.
For the longest time.
Love is indeed lost…
Hold me closer,
Your true lies,
To my stupid ears.
I have nothing to loose,
Since it is a lost love…
© Ayoub Mzee Mzima 2013
A sweet malady.
A sick melody.
That defies medication.
A moronic malaise,
That is too stubborn.
Some sweet surrender.
Blindness does not even begin,
To describe this blissful ignorance.
Castles in the air,
Abounds in this part of the world.
Shimmering mirages in a love’s desert, is what a stupid heart gets all the time.
Make believe, cheats an unfortunate sentiment again.
Same story, in a different time.
Same lame love, out to tame same lame heart.
When darkness is gone,
And the wine is done,
And the music is dead,
Then reality reveals herself.
The prince is gone.
The princess is gone.
Only lonely memories lingers on,
To be scrolled on to some sad memoir.
Ah. Romantic love.
© Ayoub Mzee 2012
Thought he could ran away from this feeling. Thought that he was protected from the emotion.
But alas. Falling is so easy after
such a gallant fight. But behold, the man has been caught up in a certain adoration loop. The damsel stole his heart and ran away with it to distant leas. He sees his story in her eyes. So candid and so clear that it startles his spirit. It is a moment no man can deny.
Both want and need ran amok in his weak heart. Wanton desires claims the dark night. Dark longings smoulders at the altar of unbriddled romance.
She wants. He’s afraid of her power. He wants too but cowardice steals his chance while his own hunger propels him to scour for stolen moments.
She’s ready to bow and offer all and be bestowed with seeds of life in an eternal dance of life. It is her moment and he can’t demur anymore. He has to claim the crown and glory shall be celebrated in a night of a thousand candles. Ease down onto my loving lair my king, she coos while holding his essence in a delicate care. Her bosom welcomes his fiery and wanton need. She whispers songs of triumph into his silly ears and the ultimate promise is consumated.
There will be no denial…
© Copyright Ayoub Mzee 2012