I grovel at mercies feet to submission of serenity,
I get bewild with the thoughts of rhyming solitudiness,
I get this songs I hear a thousand times echoeing in my head
“My phantom Stone”.
Seraphim of heavenly souvenirs chant in rhymes always in my earnest illusion,
to literarise literature of unspoken books that writes her songs,
Poems of inevitable vocabulary meaningful to describe her as
“My Phantom Stone”.
My phantom stone that is crystallise precious,
My phantom stone of all jewelry,
My phantom stone that carries loves in you and make me write
“My Phantom Stone”.
She takes my thoughts to height that cannot spell high,
Binding my heart to hers of uniqueness to make me feel wot I’v never ever felt,
causing speech not to rhyme if not in
“My Phantom Stone “.
Oh will I ever let thee go at all,
My phantom stone?
Cuz without you I’ll have no precious amongst my stones,
without you I will never spell you,
without you I will never write about
My Phantom Stone.

2012 Copyright Rudolph Naanhoot Adidi


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