So you may see that a soul can never transcend
Without the other to occupy its absence
That absence is the common singular of loneliness
And loneliness is madness to my conscience
...
The window pane was translucent
From the rain the night before
I felt the chilling of recognition
As she welcomed me at the door
...
She was to me, a troubled star
Burning in breathless beauty without a reason
A single twinkle on this blackened soul
A rigid lighthouse, an erratic beacon
...
These days are heavy with irresolution
That crumbles down like hateful hail
Butchered hopes and beaten dreams
Are freshly hanged by the nail
...
The sun is cold and pale and sick
The sky is silent with dark emotion
Time has become an entity of almost non exist
Torturing this feeling of forlorn and unfulfilled devotion
...
My heart is a satellite constantly orbiting your presence;
Remotely sensing my thoughts and signaling my infatuations;
Towards your ever embracing grace within each magnetic polar;
Locating and mapping every inches of hope and my expectations.
...
I hate her entirely as the universe would permit
As much as the water in the sea
I see and hear her out of blackest spite
As black as any hatred can be
...
A cold bed, lonely nights
Rain and of other depressing weather
Takeaway food and meaningless channels
A painful silent moment all together
...
Your eyes were glittering and profound
With love and grandeur in your every heartbeat
As we watched autumn spreads it’s placate breeze
Dancing between Gertrude and Nicholson Street
...