Lime Tree and the Nightingale
I sat by the roots of a lime tree
along with my youth
the moon followed the eons
and returned
as I was studded by
the shroud of stars
a mortal boy of the seasons
an enchanted heart that spent
its time alone
the way you loved and were forgotten
soul of another deep soul
you don’t love the shores you dreamed
when it fluttered ecstatically and passed
with distancing steps
free in its absence
a soul that took off
and grabbed the not returning deficit
in the fleeting trip to illusion
in the shivery vertigo of an eternal kiss
where beauty was momentarily lost
and among the foliage
the nightingale carried on with its song
from the depths of time to the fleeting.

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