leaving wounds…

like a nagging cankerous wound

morphing into a useless piece of scab

falling, leaving only a salient numb lump

as an eternal reminder of a scar,

loneliness too does ebb away…

moon’s brevity…

as i sit here still,

by the bedroom window in my bliss,

quelled by a lullaby in the wind,

my eyes look past through you,

awed by the moon as it spoke,

a language that was never uttered…

 

now i fathom loneliness,

even in the interim…

woeful restrictions…

stalked by wistful reveries,

succumbed to waking dreams,

i’m bound to wanton memories

of me with you…

 

longing, this abysmal prison i’m shackled to…

fleeting moments…

as i brave myself to write this ode of you,

i will not say that time with you was short nor fickle,

rather i’ll write, that your eyes altered depths

while your lips switched seasons…

half empty…

 

this empty void, it hollows me…

weakened and wasted, carefully reducing me to nothingness…

 

sodden blues…

i am alone,

in this room so gloom,

embraced by the colour blue,

inside this poem,

the only words i ever truely knew…

 

lights out…

 

darkness comes again,

and as the last candle melts its wax,

with every breath shallower in the night,

there is nothing left for me to do but,

wait in muted stillness…

sand castles…

 

 

 

i tread on dreams that come and go, silenced and universal

hoisting buckets of my holy water to the shores where

you sit and plainly marvel…

 

surreal dreams…

 

dreams have a habit of becoming real…

you wake up one day disappointed of finding that the dream is no more, but a stark reality…

would you still risk closing your eyes so you can dream again?!

utter vibrance…

your voice resonant like a strummed guitar’s…

vibrant tones coax shivering waves from my core…

my plight, should i begin to dance to the music that you wrought…