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My Beloved

A poem about my beloved whom I don't know how to explain my feelings too.
My Beloved...
As if alcohol is running marathon in my veins,
So my heart race with feelings of muffled emotions,
Like a madman chasing nothing,
So my heart dances with the golden thought of MY BELOVED.

I want to talk about it,
But cannot find a language to suit this tongue,
If I use Mandarin to speak of how I feel,
It will sound like a fight,
Of which it is but a battle of self.

In the battleground of my heart,
If I use Italian,
It will sound exaggerated,
And MY BELOVED won't understand this language of war,
Like the Church didn't understand Da Vinci's hidden truth.

I can't use French,
I'll sound like a royalty,
With all the gold, diamonds, and precious stones to give,
But I'm so poor yet so rich,
With only my heart to give,
A treasure, the glory of Babylon can't match.

Spanish is not an option,
Because I'll sound like a Mexican actor,
But my heart can't act this holy war,
No cinema will be able to show it,
English will sound too formal,
And I bet if my beloved will see,
The madness of warring emotions beneath my moving lips.

Unable to be here or there,
Unable to sit, stand, or sleep,
Overpowered with an overwhelming feeling,
Choking with painful ecstasy.

I want to sing it in a song,
I want to express it in a dance,
I want to act it in a play,
I want to write it as a book,
I want to put it in poetic stanza,
But I'm yet to find words for it.

War is with me because my war has ended,
I am fortunate to feel,
What history felt...
What the future want to feel...
I hope MY BELOVED feels the same way,
And when my tongue finds a language,
To suit this feeling,
I hope she understands,
Because she's MY EVERYTHING...
By
Published: 2/20/2015
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