Privacy was stolen, you invaded my land of thoughts, where my greatest desires come alive, nourished with your shine. I pondered, searching for my soul lost in a foreign city. Hungry for the seat next to the King, I was feeding on greatness, a glorifying dream. Weakness bowed down, imploring for mercy; I did not relent, slaughtering ruthlessly.
Street lamps in the night
emitted a yellowish light
which bounced off my face
with its occasional flicker
and a soft touch that would linger.
Fame circled you
money was a close acquaintance.
Paparazzis aimed guns,
firing bullets of white,
with a finger on the trigger
Armani suit, a vintage Porche
you never failed to impress,
a leash on these toys.
Your gaze unfazed,
although blood dripped from every corner of your face.
Movements made perfectly choreographed
displaying a splendid performance,
Viola, topped with a haughty laugh.
In the dark skies resided fireflies,
waiting for a spectacle
sketched in the Books of Valentine.© Spurts of Liberation
You’re no different than me. I’ve fallen for a facade, a fragment of a dream, lost in a sea of possibilities.