Syncopate

 Featured art by Amy Judd

Listen to Syncopate by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to The Hunger by ORAX

she was his refuge
his strength and his brave
his nights and his days
dressed her fragrance
the sweetest perfume
hung in clouds on the grounds
that a lifetime was merely hiatus

such intoxicating scent preempted every heartbeat skipped
bereft of the presentiment that silent fears gripped
swiftly outstripped of careworn trepidation
for he knew she would not permit indignation
thus he made a declaration
heedful not of destination
fearlessly he turned and faced her
lifted crimson veil
embraced her

the sands of time slowed
heel and toe they had captured
the ebb and the flow
that of syncopated rapture
it mattered not the fracture that his heart had been subjected to
only which stents best to be connected to

she was his refuge
his strength and his brave
his nights and his days
dressed her fragrance
the sweetest perfume
hung in clouds on the grounds
that a lifetime was merely hiatus

for all of his days
feeling dazed and confused
all he craved was the truth
unmistakable proof
that he would be seen even when he receded
felt at full swell when exchanges were heated
that she would expel any doubts in his mind
foretell not that death his whole life would define
a life in decline would find reason to ripen
confide of a peaceable dream to delight in

for all time
and far longer
their ties had grown stronger
not one cycle passed he had partially wronged her
neither had she ever bled the decree
that his heart was her region to conquer
in wanderlust they trusted
thus they thrust their best foot forth
and altered course to walk towards just cause to shine
rose petals in their stride
and ceremonious glide
they redefined the stars and coloured bright the skies
made a declaration
heedful not of destination
fearlessly and forward facing
they embraced and braided twine

she was his refuge
his strength and his brave
his nights and his days
dressed her fragrance
the sweetest perfume
hung in clouds on the grounds
that a lifetime was merely hiatus

never once to lament
that essentially blessed
as the object of every affection
through the never
they never once severed the ties
that supplied their blind eyes with reflection
the sands of time slowed
heel and toe they had captured
the ebb and the flow
that of infinite rapture

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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