They were feelings of a heart, not fillings from your granny’s mat,
Yolan, a common village lad-everything you could hence beshrew- vintage,
A lad gifted with wanting, for his family never full, owned nothing.
But like a moon god, he was…
Rich in charm of body and wit, something you’d think handsome and smart.
An incomplete phrase was his life without Zeu, his gentle lady…
So glamorous and real, she was…
With her, nobility found its greatest match,
and beauty failed not to take its favorite shape…
So fair was her good luck star;
For though she possessed not a treasure of the world,
That of the heart she did, for none but a simple yet charming lad.
One who made her true and alive, HE that lived in her dreams…
Indeed so monumental, he was to her.
And there, for a first time in life,
she held tight to a hand that taut befalling of mercy.
To a chafed and murky soul that shone tacit misery on a day without her.
A life lived in a lie so that certainty is forgotten in all its mirth.
She held on to a heart interminably that loved her…
liberally; Securing their perpetual bond…a heart that gave though it had not.
She held on to secure a place of contentment,
Blooding a desire of her simple heart to acquire a compatible simple match.
But the logs that held in place this flakey terrain,
were but tides in this steadily unconsuming fire of romance.
The king was no ears to the unbefitting, common mannered mongrel, undeserving of the monarchy robes…
For the sight of Yolan, was but a sight of salty spring water diluting the thick taste of sweet wood honey-
The Brianzoo mornarchy!
But Zue considered not the interests of the monarch.
To her, Yolan was, but of sentimental value…
So she held tough on that that lived in the inside of her: Affection.
Ready to defy all forces,
for she had to face tomorrow with him.
Hhhaaaahhh!!! She loved by the book
Zeu treasured the difference, for in it her love sprang.
And so she stole away in the night of peace, to the royal river…
There she broke down and expressed her desire to chelerinah, the mother of royal maidens.
Chelerinah broke down in sobs-
she beheld a purity of affection.
“Run my daughter to the mother tree, there you’ll find Yolan fast asleep. Whisper a kiss on his forehead and he’ll rise fast again… Disappear for he won’t see noon of morrow!”
They flew to the unknown of the night to lands far away, they carried so far away…
With dust and perspiration, mingled together, that picked at strings and released inward emotion.
They gave way to tears and shivered with fears but held on to a love that had been tested by the world.
Astute looks into each other’s eyes,
strained and weary but with no regret.
It spelt right timing…a possession many a living dreamt of only.
Long after the biting winter, the king waiting for his daughter to no avail, sent a clique of knights to the kingdom, west of the grass valley stretch, to inquire of the wherewith of the princess.
But halfway the journey, by a cave, under the red tree…
There lay a wonder of what was left of the love:
Bones and skulls in one figure,
A fully intact, intimate embrace.
The princess still wore her royal fetish;
the lad his flute
and the very dress the princess had warn that knight, she lay covered in.
They lived and lived on…
They loved and loved on…
And in death, they would be together, than be deprived of each other
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