Poetry is turning out to be a very cathartic medium, I should do this more often.
Set the Mood
There’s an enemy coming up over the horizon,
A new one for every celestial rising and setting.
No, there’s more than just that,
A sea flows forth freely to overcome.
I fear not the sea but having never tasted a single drop,
For there is a drop waiting to caress my face as it falls.
Softly it will trickle from my brow and down to my lips,
To be met by my eager tongue waiting for its kiss.
She is a drop sweeter than the sea of bodies in which I swim,
The only drop for which I churn and yearn.
Fires of passion lighting the furnace of my heart,
Pushing me to strive for the taste of her glimmering soul.
I may ride a wave that carries me far from her,
The sea she calls me and her tides are unforgiving.
No matter where I am the taste shall linger,
Upon the tip of my tongue her memory rests unforgotten.
Oh how I yearn for another taste of her sweetness,
The sea has drained me and left naught but desire.
I’ll keep floating, swimming, surfing my way back to her,
My sweet drop of sustenance in this ocean of unforgiving pain.