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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471589" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Making of a Prince I: I Named Her Sybella</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A strident silence speared<br>Through a long famished alley, <br>A turgid hymn of air swooned<br>Reeking of sapid quandaries, <br>That was when I caught her breath<br>Asphyxiating from the cacophony<br>That her pensive hands whittled<br>In a callow toil to defy<br>The sequester of the sea and sky; <br>Vying to taut a prissy wry</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The verve in her eyes, unseeing<br>The veins in her hands, clogged<br>The plethora of colors in her skin<br>Thaws in a concoction—a melancholia<br>She knelt in a prayer, weeping<br>Before adamant caryatids, fringing<br>Her horizon, it was hers, <br>I windwalked and trespassed<br>Her veil of secrecy, profoundly<br>Bore her my eyes, empathically<br>I desire to tell her of bliss—<br>How it lingers around and about<br>For those who desire it, but<br>I saw the cairn and candles<br>She tussled and endeavored: <br>A grave for all her hopes, <br>And for all my words, hushed<br>I picked her up like a blossom<br>Drifted from her garden and<br>I knew I know not to speak<br>To tell her that I know her<br>For her eyes was a sleeping mirror<br>And it shines and lust and sheen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I knew her, I knew her<br>And I named her after her: <br>&quot;Sybella, The Lady of Secrets&quot;<br>One of my elusive triumphs<br>For I have conquered<br>A vacuous space<br>Of a gilded heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Norman+Santos">Norman Santos</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471589" data-title="The Making of a Prince I: I Named Her Sybella de Norman Santos" data-description="A strident silence speared
Through a long famished alley, 
A turgid hymn of air swooned
Reeking of sapid quandaries, 
That was when I caught her breath
Asphyxiating from the cacophony
That her pensive hands whittled
In a callow toil to defy
The se..."></div>
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