Member-only story
PROSE POETRY
Soul’s Compass
Between Hopes and Contemplation, the Sanctuary of Your Love Beckons
I once penned in the presence of sheer beauty, my heart trembling with anticipation. You, the essence of my longing, were the purity coursing through my veins. When darkness threatened to consume my path or when serenity eluded my grasp, it was you. You remained the fragrance that lingered in countless places and homes.
You were every city, every ocean, every shoreline, every fleeting moment, and every alternative. You were the barriers I faced, the boundaries I couldn’t cross, and the joyous encounters that once were. Lay your haunting touch upon my hand for our first rendezvous. Tear apart every promise, reject every vow, and erase all that the past held. Disregard the traditions of sects and tribes, and let us exist between dusk and dawn as the light of nearby and distant lighthouses.
Oh, the embodiment of yearning, gather the fragments of me. Distance has scattered my nostalgia and years. I find myself lost between hopes and contemplation, like scattered news on a paper. Rise above the clouds, shining brighter than the moon. You are a star, distant yet captivating. My soul’s compass, swayed by the winds of my longing, always points towards the sanctuary of your love. Every word in my poem, every letter, is drawn to you.
Haunt me, a sacred deity of love. Let me serve as the priest of the soul, and you, become the priestess of my agony, my confidante, my beloved. Allow me to search for a lifetime in your eyes, only to find you, time and time again, as the sole beacon in this vast void.
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