found, in the realm of fate and fallen (ballad of a haunted heart, hopeful)

moving through you,
moving through me
doubting all, that i feel, felt
have seen..

a sensitive soul, here,
a dangerous thing to be
sensitive as in skinless, exposed
to all the things that lie hiding, underneath

things, that most, don't want you to see
things, so haunting, they almost
cannot be believed

by eyes that search and seek,
for escape
of inner world realities
so fractured, lost
in a land full of falsehood and fake

he told me, ominously
"few, if any, have ever gotten as close
to me, as you"
the last night i saw him, face to face,
as with him, he took, all my sky,
bathed in blue

and left, a lingering mystery,
all it's own...
what is this feeling,
in my heart, found, you, "home"

and the sensation, enveloped,
my skin, soul, every pore
"heaven on earth"
as he stood before me, in "adored"

as in, just him being near me,
it filled me,
with some unfathomable feeling,
instilled me..

with some strange notion,
yes, he, "the one"
and now, in his absence
sifting the damage, now done..

as to why we lie, to ourselves,
seem to run
away, in the always,
what we seek, when it comes..
in forms and ways,
we do, and did, not expect
and yet, there we were,
an almost palpable assurance
of what would come next...

this time, for him,
i was the one, standing strong
seeing beyond self, for "the fight"
in it, "long"

the kind called, ending in "haul"
like the "forever", finally found,
in "the fall"
as if ears awakened to the sound,
"heed the call"

to a magic beyond both,
bruised and broken, understanding
seeking out the gods, "heavy lift",
helping handing

as nothing make sense,
as to "why", him, or now
i am haunted, the awareness
this, what "with" feels
when cut off, it's limb
and replaced with "without"

golden-hearted like an angel,
who lies like the devil
his hold, so warm,
when gone, it leaves you
disoriented, disheveled

lies that come, spill naturally
from a man, removed, his true self,
too blind to see

the effect they have, or he has,
proved
by the slain heart, ripped out
and handed to him, moved...

compelled to do so,
in reflection, the mirror
of a connection called "profound"
as if, for the first time,
i couldn't see or feel anything clearer..

and yet, disconnect and disavow
is all he knows
and so, the seeds of deny, deflect,
only grow...

which leaves me, this bleeding
of a heart haunted,
strangely, delicately, hopeful
as here within, throbs a man
the defining definition
of undefinable

as the "otherworldly" whispers
here, the ultimate in allowance,
we love to think we do,
our intellect, opinions offered, shown

but what exactly,
in the madness of logic,
do we really,
in the realm of fate and fallen,
forever, like heaven, truly know?


bowen hart roselli
16 june 2020
ringwald love