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there's nothing that i am supposed to do.
in my head there is a melody blue
that is composed of emotional views
i've been collecting ever since you
left me here stranded atop of this mountain.
the bluer you are and the bluer the fountain
of emotions scattered all over this page,
the lesser i rage and the more i engage.
somewhere, a bottle got wasted tonight.
take it or leave it, but know that the night
surely has only begun in your mind.
i hope you don't mind if love you're to find
somewhere where nobody knows who you are.
distance is relative when there's a bar
out in the astral with dance floors to dance on.
promise me now that you will pay my ransom.
'fore i go wild and burn down the city;
a poem is but a portfolio of the witty.
wonky in nature like harmony, dear.
somewhere i'm drowning in tears made of fear,
but on this canvas of nothingness clean,
thoughts and ill memories all intervene
with my existence here in the now,
and if i allow them to win, i will bow
down to a leadership that i'm opposing.
addiction is nothing if sole overdosing
gets treated rightly when nightly it comes.
a pitch perfect universe with its hums
doesn't sound like it's out of tune with the all.
sweet are the days that follow each fall;
when they start rotting away and to wither,
you learn the true meaning of crying a river.
Although I cannot fully enjoy your poem because of my language limitation, I perceive a beautiful love poem, though not of those easy or obvious ones, in rhyme and with a very good inner rhythm.
The feeling of love may not have a certain place, it will always be "somewhere". Greetings, @lukakorba.