I just looked at my stories and realized the update I put in for these poems didn't take! I'm so sorry. I was blocked on the other two stories, but this one I was good. Sorry sorry! I'll have another update by Sunday to make up for the computer glitch.
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Midnight Reflection (Mayonaka Seisatsu)
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She's sleeping now, unaware of my stare;
Her weapon safely at her side, ready to be used
Against a wandering hand or enemy abused.
How secretly dangerous is a swing by the hand of my fair
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I shake my head, trying to rid myself of such notions.
I've been concentrating on her too much as of late,
The future I want to be is denied by that horrible Fate,
But no matter what I do, I cannot rid myself of those emotions.
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My eyes return to her form, laying a stride away;
Long brown hair is pinned back, a few wisps escaping;
Her body not quite fully relaxed with one arm draping
Over her side. 'Not mine,' I think with much dismay.
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I sigh and turn from her, her image too painful to look at.
I can't have her, no matter what I feel and desire
To be real, it isn't. She deserves more, someone higher;
Not a man whose women's behinds he likes to pat.
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A failed monk who flirts with every girl he meets
Who asks them to bear his children, but words are hollow;
Someone who finds no pleasure in those he pursues and who follow-
Well, sure, I admit teasing women does have its treats,
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But I still want more than that; I want a demon slayer
With fire in her depths and a heart overflowing with kindness.
Her senses are acute, but eyes filled with blindness
That she is wanted by someone, even though that man is a player.
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My gaze wanders again, wishing her awake yet praying she remains in slumber,
For her to catch me openly gazing as I am would cause the mask carefully created
To be stripped away, and when my true emotions shown, not slated,
She would surely reject me, and that possibility is too big a number.
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I smile bitterly, resigning myself to that which won't occur,
A beautiful dream that must remain but a dream forever.
She won't have me, not this unworthy soul, not ever;
That which is in mine heart doesn't make hers stir.
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Closing my eyes I picture her, full locks rushing around her face,
Face of an angel, ready to spit fire at my perverted ways;
Having no idea that with one look she sets my spirit ablaze.
I drift off, wishing for that never approaching sweet embrace.
Like it? Hate it? I made this less intense because I didn't want to have nothing to build to. Please review.
Rebecca Ashley