Crashing Into Him

Crashing into him

Feels like a burst of light

Emanating only through splendid twilight

It is not love

Nor lust 

Nor simply a quick bust 

But something shining off the rust

The rust of loneliness and madness.

Crashing into him

Is eminent flowers 

Interlacing valiantly through hot summer

A fresh of cold water 

Slipping down his dry throat 

From previous romantic sorrows

Golden gulps of life 

Golden gulps are devoid of strife.

Crashing into him

Is what he writes about

Unperturbed by rotten thoughts

Just consciousness at ease

A symphony from a heart pleased

Pleased of the many possibilities to be

At last, he happily screams.