If monsoon eyes revealed,
the secrets in this chest;
even Apathy would lend a shoulder.
Unseen, much better than the rest.
The key once forged,
now lost, it seems.
Yet to find is my true goal!
How desired a key -more than ever-
To guide -and love- my soul.
Callused, knees show signs of pray.
Valleys, where elbows used to lay.
Contain trivialized and fallen tears.
Post, knowing truth, unlocking fears.
Those words, -not birds-
Literations do not soar!
Yet this unlocked chest must hide.
From one with keen expressions,
and of Love's laws not abide.
Saint Valentine enervated muses,
that killed him 'till the end.
En-sheathed, that love holds often, hate.
Nemesis, former friend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.