Halcyon Days Of Youth

My epiphany.

On a halcyon night, under that amaranthine sky of a myriad sempiternal ethereal stars, I wrote my first masterpiece, after a flagitious sciamachy, aghast at the plethora of velvet ink droplets on paper, my elixir, my lagniappe.
The universe smiled.
This was my kismet, a scintilla of panacea.
I vowed to allow myself to fall in the entangled silk threads of love.
This was a metanoia, this was my renaissance.
I’m the quintessence, the epitome of an amorist.