ᗩᑎᑕᕼOᖇᕮᗪ Iᑎ ᗰY ᑕᕼᕮST, S❤️ᖴIᗩ

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒,
𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍,
𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗆 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌.
𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋,
𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗎𝗇.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌,
𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇.
𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾,
𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗓𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾,
𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽,
𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗐 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀.

𝖳𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽,
𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍.
𝖬𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐
𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗉𝗎𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇,
𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋
𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝗈𝗒.

𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅,
𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍.
𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗇,
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌, 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝖾
𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖽
𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾.

𝖲𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖲♡𝖿𝗂𝖺.
𝖬𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍,
𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍,
𝗌𝖺𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒.

I would like to invite my poet friend @silher to read his contribution, if time allows. Also thanks to @moeknows for visiting my post.

Poetry Prompt: Love without love…