Beatitude. A poem.

Salt-filled streams in cotton valleys,
stuttered remnants of hazy fantasia.

Every shed raindrop that stains
this silky, cloud-like tundra,
is just another overture to redeem
my lonesome, enervated soul;
another blatant and monotonous
attempt at constructing
a beatitude of nearsighted ardour.

How I long to love thee,
to trade this near-infinite sadness
for a long and fruitful life with you.

My first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online distributors. To find out more, click here.

Published by stevestillstanding

I’m a writer who loves tabletop role playing games, poetry and (you guessed it) writing. Occasionally I have something to say...

4 thoughts on “Beatitude. A poem.

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