Symphonies of the Sun

There she was… betrayed by the symphonies of rusty hinges, the chorus of a creaking door Caressed by a wooden frame A delicate rose, stood silently still. Ushered in, a crisp morning breeze, with the drunken aromas of jasmine, that adorned a delicate silhouette: Ruby-red lips, satin white dress Weaving, dancing like liquid sunshine Her soft subtle contours embraced by the morning star. Where once vacant words, now vigorously swim in eyes that proclaim: “It’s over, I need some space, I need to breath” And now a cold, yet darkened shadow has cloaked the sun And with it’s dying breath A cursed gift, of a smile, bittersweet. As she, turned and walked away. The essence of jasmine now lingers through these barren chambers of heart, still…