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Red Wine

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For everything, there's a reason, as such, a time for birth and death. I just wonder what makes my life so different. I lovely fail before love. Love for life, what art thy shall remain until the last breath of my life! Romantically I would like to be killed by the love I love, but I am not stupid enough to bury my precious life for the love unloved. I drink wine and I have tasted almost all the precious of them. I drink and I love, I love and I live, I live and I am loving it. I love the mystic charms of life, the way it behaves, woos, and ravishes, what a piece of romance. I always wanted to stop writing about love, but my love for my life fails me and I write again! Life is such a wonderful gift I’ve ever had, there's failure, success, love, rejection, smile, sadness, poverty, luxury, silence, laughter, and many; but life remains as life itself. I am blessed!
PS: WINE IS A BOTTLED POETRY AND I AM A POET ARBITRARILY.

Comments

  1. Anonymous5 August 2013 at 20:55

    hail to thy little keats, hail to thee!

    ReplyDelete

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