Hopelessly dependent on your heads and hands
were the pieces of me strewn on your platters
spinning wildly, correcting, dissecting my faces
praying for movement of the allegro, sans.
{An insidious little fox with her naughty tail
came to wrap around my being and close
never you mind what transpired next,
a shattering soul was no longer frail.}
But back and forth the fugue swings
never fulfilling the adagio's haste
the remnants of me are long since lost
scrambling for nothing, my madness sings.
Now I am left with no memory or past
now there's naught to look forward to
now I can die a regretful death
now the scherzo, can take flight, at last.
No tears shall fill this olive grove
the sorrows of a few grace its arches
the final movement is now at hand
slump, lively, into the irony of the allegro.
i've lost my HDD. years of my life just erased in an instant. all my poetry, books, music, photos, movies, softwares, everything gone.