To Tell Tale Love

Hey, Myers here with a new poem, it is actually not complete yet, but the its length felt good enough to be published.

 I was once an idol,

Worshiped by no one, but himself,

Stubborn, like a carving on a stone,

Held together, barely, by dying rocks,

In a garden that never saw past an autumn,

An idol that lived even soulless, 

Filled with nothing, but an immortal ignorance, 

Of mortal's desire; to love, 

Unmoved of worldly emotions, 

And blind towards the beauty's truth,

Time tells tales of a mortal being, 

Bestowed upon whom a beauty, 

That nulled all those myths,

Told of a curse no one possessed, 

But her highness; a goddess queen,

Her sea green eyes could heal every soul,

Stun every nerve with a stare stone cold, 

Even Medusa couldn't bring time to a still, 

But where she'd pass from, it wouldn't move, 

Many a heart-beats skipped- put on hold.

And it happened, on one fortunate, beautiful, needless day, 

Paths crossed, eyes met and a heart longed that, 

Time surrendered for this very moment, 

As though all of universe had come to a still, 

A blissful ignorance; a split there was, the first of many,

Immersing in her graceful aura, 

He found himself in a soliloquy, 

And eyes bent down in a willful submission, 

A desert an autumn, an autumn a spring, 

Many a seasons passed by- just in a still,