Finn Wagner - April 23, 2024
Today, the gloomy skies have decided
to calm and sit at bay;
for, again, I am delighted
to stroke and kiss Your face.
Lonesome days have morphed to one; alone
like spoken words missing meaning.
Shrouded beneath a veil of gentle dreaming
hides a promise—the forever throne.
Delicate rays of sunlight kiss my hand,
driving me to yours.
Gone are the days I’m not Your man,
so I will love You tomorrow and forever many more.
With a creeping smile sealing my lips—
for You are the purest perfection,
my one and only heaven—
I plead: “Baby, look. Look where the pale moon sits.
Bask in the beauty of its elegant eclipse.”