Behemoth Passions
A poem
I’m sold to a cruelty that flaunts its jagged jaws — taunting and sneering so I’m compelled to hate my soul so sorely. My agonies are akin to fiercely tempestuous currents so I’m swindled of all optimism and the conceptualization of hope.
Let the stars leave me drab and forlorn for I’m the object of much persecutory intentions and the slave to tend to pathetic, gangrene feet. The pleasure of romance is a mottled bread and I feel its crust to tamper with a certain staleness.
I can’t remember the semblance of passionate, honeyed kisses fused in so intensely or those moments measured with tapes for eternities. I’m aloof to recall the immersive episodes of sentimental feelings and I drown in abysmal oceans scarce with romantic frisson.
The amorous majesties yonder have deprived me of the staple of the heart and the thrill dictating the motions and trajectories among the sexes. I squat at the dismal end of despondency, perhaps I may sniff the winning fragrance of unadulterated love.
My days were adorned with the royalty of purple so I effused a cultured, princely charisma. The height of my pride was atop on a steeple and I had a penchant to let my ambitions rev and rave on high-octane impetus.
I was crushed to bite the dust and frolic within the miry schemes of my vicious enemies. The stars etched my forfeiture on stone — remaining adamant about all reversal. But I’m fortunate to witness the countering of sinister deeds and the subjugation of a wicked enterprise.
So I adore you, belle, my garland of pride, welcoming these incipient, rosy emotions. You’re made for the skies and a treasure for resplendent spaces. You imbue my heart with the excellence of thrill and with the perfection of sheer delight.
You’re my ecstasy on steroids and I’m caught at the peaking crests of wonderment. So kiss me with locked, phenomenal passions till we elope to the apex of interstellar voids and fiddle with the beauty of cosmic pieces.
I’m ballooned expanding with the substance of untainted affections now you’re my belle with a vast repertoire of sentimental fascinations. The treasure trove we share is an inexhaustible goldmine of depthless fortunes.
Darling, we’re larger-than-life for being in love and we procure euphorias that make angels swoon. We’ll climb the staircase of the skies for being a pair of marvels and a synonym for enmeshed befuddlement. For truly our hearts are a garden to nurture these behemoth passions.
© Valentine Nnebe 2024
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