My Stella -No - 47

- - My stella- - 47 Thou came to my rescue Lackadaisical, ailing and infirm by time and fate, The skeleton half in grave and half is burning, Mind is dead and sensibility numbed by years annealing combustion. Burning inchmeal from soul to corpus and now a cadaver with soul spiritless. The hope rearmost to sink to submerse into elemental affinity do i look like a sinking ship. Life is a dreamless drama with no promise and prospect, An undiluted waiting and waiting for nothing to pursue. Eternal limbo with a flash of fresh surmise of divine dream. Life is gone, lost in the great womb of annoyance and pestering thought of progress. Thou came with posies of Daisy, daffodil and Dahlia. Dreams of triumphant love and restful tranquility in being and soulful sense of joy thou defray with thee. Yea! It is so beautiful and on the hoof, so soothing to muse. But time is gone to the past, to trashy lacuna of fancied pool with subtle sense of vigor, outdated and eclipsed. Thou art an entity sweetness, essence and presence of my later years to come, Fresh flowers for a newly planted graveyard. Do I live or dream of thee in this fleshless framework? Can there be any chance of metamorphosis Or seclusion for both of us to pulsate in same gravity and magnitude? Thou came and initiated composing my self before metempsychosis outset.