Goat horns smell bad

Here I sit listening,
To the soft melodic words,
Eloquently dripping ,
Like honey off your tongue,
Sweet succulent dew,
Upon my ears and heart,
Quenching a thirst for the extraordinary,
The blessed gift,
For those with passion ,
Embedded in their souls,
Hidden deep,
Then bursting through ,
Shinning brightly,
A small glimpse,
Of the beauty from within,
Flowing outwards,
Like rays of light,
off a well cut prism,
Multicolored layer upon layer,
Beaming outwards,
for the ears it was ment to land upon,
and the eyes that would look at it,
With appreciation and admiration,
For the heart that would feel,
The many layered meanings,
And bask warmly,
Beating rapidly,
To the cadence of the verse,
Alas the words escape me,
Leaving me with only my hands,
With which to show my inner expressions,
And to place upon canvass,
My deepest thoughts,
Fears passions and desires,
Thereby exposing myself ,
To those who will look,
And see as I see,
ahhh but it is not enough,
The silence that hath set upon my lips,
Stifles me and trapped behind the gates,
Of my lips ,
Are the passions that are hidden,
by my soft silent tongue,
Wrapped in cold protection,
Fighting to escape,
But not knowing where the key lies,
The gates remain closed,
As I gaze in wonder,
Beholding a treasure,
To whose ears I cannot seem to speak,
Looking down upon my hands,
Wondering if they will say the words for me,
In my own silent ways,
Wondering if their message ,
will be understood and give voice to that I cannot speak,

I wouldnt try to claim this one cuz it got published hehe

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