The Narcissist

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 14, 2017

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Submitted: August 14, 2017



The Narcissist


I lie beside you and wonder,

What if our love was to sunder

And then all my fears plunder-

I am torn, ready to surrender.


Dare I think where it all began,

That image you so brand,

A seduction so grand,

How you took my heart, by command.


Your presence inspires heaven,

With passion my heart is laden,

Yet, you were never a burden,

But this was all too sudden.


Fading in and out of consciousness,

You bring joy to my sadness,

Smarts into madness,

With virtue slaving me into your likeness.


Every new day brings only admiration,

While words on my lips are of adoration-

The perfect creature you are for contemplation,

My eyes are only filled with infatuation.


I yearn, exasperated by your beauty

And my mind questions my sanity,

But I  feel blessed with your eternal company,

As life without you would be agony!


We managed a blissful courtship,

That let us stride through kinship

And on we built a long lasting friendship,

Leaving you only mine to worship.


Honoured with this knowledge,

I take this chance to give you homage,

While my mind reaches far after the rummage,

Of you constantly taking me hostage.


Sometimes I deem you a little hyper,

Though only I appreciate your fervour,

That gives me emotional valour,

Just like a candid banter.


Now let me put out my fire,

To describe the ambiguity you inspire

And those feelings that light my desire,

Hoping I will not go haywire .


Mindful in manner,

Careful when in endeavour,

Sleek like a squire,

And should I stop here and retire?


Cheerfully enraptured,

Commendably nurtured,

Insightfully cultured,

Should I carry on unperturbed?


Sweet and posed,

Polite and composed,

Resilient and predisposed,

And on I go, leaving you exposed.


Uncanny and true,

Compassionately on cue,

My emotions running askew,

Is this jealousy I slowly construe?


Trustworthy and present,

Affable and confident,

Hinged while prominent,

And its hard to remain coherent.


Matured and yet young,

Silent but yet sung,

Eloquent in tongue,

Time for all this to be flung.


All this points to my despair-

Some even call it a snare,

Refusing to see your fond glare,

That lights me like a flare.


With a confession I will swear,

Even if it is on no dare,

That I will shed no tear,

As I end this here.



But if they will ask,

In whose glory I bask,

I will unveil the mask,

And make this an easy task.


Look no further for this stranger I shall say,

For whom I ravish with pleasure and hold sway,

For it is me this harbinger who runs astray,

Being my own lover whom I hold tenure and display.




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© Copyright 2019 Vin Ash. All rights reserved.

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