Streams of Consciousness

I loathe the darkness of my feeling
Behind the shutters of our crescent moons:
My heart throbs the thirst for healing
Of Arabian clouds and desolate tunes.
My sighs sail on the vessel of the breeze,
Across loud tempests of my vitreous pains,
My glistening tears glaringly exhale and wheeze
To the calm euphony of nature's strains!
Nocturnal sounds intrude on my complaint
As dreamt-of carvings harass the darkness,
The stealthy mist of gloom knows no restraint
For the dark moods of my mind to harness.
A moonlit ray shudders my hidden tears
In the cryptic hall of my seclusion;
Nature calls to smother the human years
That sailed me to the dawn of illusion.
Upon the silver brow of a lover, tonight,
Love dies: crimson clouds do not awaken,
The heart hushes for its lymph is contrite:
Evermore my soul will be forsaken!