imickeyd:(Thank you Tumblr)
Nicole – Peter Coulson
The portrait of you
Phantom dreams led me to you. You were my illusion of perfection and I was flattered when you condemn me to loving you forever by a gesture of hello and releasing your veil of perfection. You create nuptial dances into early mornings and create portraits of never-ending love into the German Winter nights.
I recited poetry to you, deep into the midnight hours. We found the charity of peace and harmony enough to warm up the cold days and nights of the German Winter. Beneath the Spring moon. The utopia of love fell to earth. I learn the hollow heart cannot be seen when camouflage by the perfection of beauty. I learn beauty wasn’t perfection.
Just an asylum of wishes and wants to diminish and condemn hopeful men to want, what they should not need.
Old men in the old taverns talks of old wars and beautiful woman. The painful memories become less with time and separation. Old men will paint with portraits of words of woman, siren or muse they have loved. When they dance again in their memories and their wishes. They would tell you. Better to know heaven and hell than have phantom dreams never attempted.