Starlit Symphony

I still remember how you were there in the dark, holding my bleeding heart. Whilst I wandered, sleepless under soundless spheres. Now I search for your starlit symphony that echoes, as idyllic octaves, from the last song you sang for our lost youth; demons we fought, when colorless dusks abandoned me, between tuneless sheets of emptiness, where citrine gold streaked wavelets of strawberry scented sunrise and amethyst sunset composed hibiscus hymns. But when ink within my soul hides behind pomegranate lies, that I truly despise, amidst crimson-clawed chaos of cluttered calligraphy, crawling in silence along cursive linings carved in psychedelic perianths ~ can you hear my pleas vibrating through unwritten lyrics, scrawled in seaweed green? Some melodies need no words nor voice, to narrate noiseless refrains of endless loss, orchestrated from seraphic strings— whistling peacock promises, that linger within my violet blue veins, coated with helium love. And even in death, you and I will forever, remain as immortal kins— like the evening moon and the midnight sun, chasing dewberry daydreams, fructified from sage mint roots, waltzing to your perfumed presence in the elysian castle. I will never stop singing our soft cotton serenades, even if the blackest of stones from the greyest hail quartz, dimmed the sangria seas that ripples deep into the shimmering gates of your home above the seven skies.