The sun dies with last honour and grace, blazing the skies with final fires before submitting to a blacken pearl scattered fields of dreams, casting black hollow shadows of doubt and loneliness upon my cold soul that not immaculate made was me that has forgotten beautiful me.
I steered upon street lights that resembled long and forgotten stars that glistened.
The moons pale dance across oceans of memories. I was lost in the stars upon glorious dunes of silver dreams.
What supreme magic of unknown bounds of emotions tangled with all sense that not immaculate made was me, yet still remains beautiful me.
What happened to my smile and the gentleness that forgotten innocence my cold cheek that bites the bitterness of winter, harsh judgement of cruel hate that punished the last warmth in my heart.
Frozen is my greed and jealousy forsaken by the misunderstanding of true passion, but I have my greed in the humbleness of forgetfulness of immaculate me that lost beautiful me.
Melvyn Mohan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beautiful-me-2/
