The Faceless guitar player…
The soldier,
The servant,
The mountain.
He emerged from my unconscious,
As a god of the Atlantic Sea.
The dark prince, a hero, and a monster…
I wonder if he will forever remain locked in consciousness.
His bravery ignites a fire within me.
I want him, yet he remains beyond reach
Someone to teach…
Everything I cannot see.
Somehow I always knew
I deeply desired you.
Asleep, a princess awaits…
a prince who will only dance before her,
Provoking desire, opening hell’s gates…
Tantalising lust, yet never daring to kiss her.
He is a mystery,
Yet somehow, also a tree of knowledge.
An enigma of unknown and captivating history,
Whose presence, I consider a tremendous privilege.
The hermit, he is a silent inquisitor,
Wandering and questioning, yet seldom speaking,
A thoughtful investigator
Always seeking.
Whimsical Wordsmith 