Let me water my garden of thought with the words of craftsmen
and the sensation exuded from flower buds of September,
Arm myself with spacious rooms in mind to gather the joy
of the radiant summer nights and get ready to charm her.
She will be easy to find, I know her rendezvous,
I will find her as usual sitting down under a rainbow sprinkling drizzle
over thirsty clouds the gray matter the source of words of craftsmen
the soothing water to my ever thirsty garden of thought.
Being the amazing goddess she is, not your typical mythological
goddesses made of rusty stone with pebble eyes,
I will find her scribbling down the manuscript to the mortal guides,
The manifesto of mortal guards, angels whose joy she feeds on to stay alive,
I will find her, I will find her like I did before I knew she existed,
Like I found her as the glowing light that shines around my feeble heart,
Like I found her as the seed to the craft dangling on my lips
that I grew to call poetry,
I will find her because my love for her was embedded in the stars of heaven
way before I knew that each day is cut short by the setting sun,
It knows no fright it searches the evergreens for treasures
and return to present before her the garden of Eden,
I will find her and simply charm her into submission
with this five words: “Let I fly with you”
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