The night is ghostly dark,
The moon- a pale hue,
Amidst the earth’s lost depths,
Did I wander through and through.
“What afflicts thee?”I hear you ask.
“That through the murky depths alone
When repose at thy brow must lie
You seize Luna’s nightly throne?”
A man I knew not long ago
-beauty incarnate God,
Divinest presence afore whom
All mortals appeared flawed.
Eyes were a flame in ocean’s depth
Words like manna down the throat,
His lips spilled holy water in which
I bathed under night’s cloak.
Upon my heart he pressed his own
He bared for me the unknown, unseen
He cut my wings, he let me fall,
And with his love he made me bleed.
Bleed and bleed, by and by
Drop by drop yet never die
Dies alone the man and his lies
Wingless, wounded, still I fly.
The heartless beauty I loved true
Sliced my heart, devoured then threw.
Yet until love’s lost depths I find
Will I wander through and through.
Artist Within Me 
This is indeed quite sensual. And sensually romantic. You never cease to amaze me.
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And you, dear Alessandro, never cease to flatter me.
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Amazingly written.
Quite catchy.
Worth a read👌😍
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Brilliant
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Is Matthew back to blogging?
Will he let me know how he has been of late?
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Calm & compose like a summer night
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Your poetry has a mysterious effect.
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Very very beautiful and powerful poignant poem about the reality of heartbreak.
I absolutely love ❤ the painting you’ve used to illustrate this poem.
My dad had a few paintings of that style in his art collection.
They were called Nocturnals and very popular in England in the late Victorian and Edwardian eras.
They were very beautiful, very romantic and very gothic.
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Dear Mr. Van Helsing, the vampire hunter and professor.
You’ve left me a kind comment, but isn’t it a great tragedy I haven’t seen the paintings you talk so promisingly about?
Won’t you perhaps post them on your blog for your readers?
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I’d very much like to but the past 8 years of my life since my dad died from cancer, I’ve felt like the hero in a Dickensonian novel (Charles Dickens a man whose novels I love so well) when that hero is going through a rough patch just before fortune smiles on him.
I’m still waiting for fortune to smile on me again.
When my dad died, we were unable to find my dad’s will.
It wasn’t in the place he said it would be on his death bed.
He had left his house and the bulk of his art collection to me (since I was the only one in the family who shared his love for art) but since the will wasn’t found, it meant the estate had to be split straight down the middle and his house and his art collection were sold and the money divided between the children.
Then to top it off, the lawyer appointed by the courts to handle the Estate was either a crook or incompetent or both because it took him forever to settle the Estate (like the poor heirs in the Dickens novel Bleak House) and so what should have been $450,000 coming to me from my Dad’s Estate, I only received a mere $58,000.
And then on top of that, I lost my dad’s art collection including the English nocturnals and other valuable historic paintings including two Salvador Dali water colours based on the theme of Dante’s Divine Comedy.
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