You were afraid
Of falling.

Falling for people
That gave you no ground
for landing;
Unreachable heights that
Hands can't grasp,
All that is left is an
Emotional mess -

Because love is a dangerous flight.
And settling for risks,
Isn't your choice of fun.

Tireless train on metal railways,
Indecision to halt
For rushing men with suitcases.
Tell me, where's your destination?

Fumbling hearts with trampling feet
To catch the present,
A minute too late.

She's gone now.
You've lost your next train station.

I saw you.

Squeezed between sentences,
In semi colons and calibre comas,
On page twenty six.

Smudging word after word
With vagueness,
And I lost track of the story.

Couldn't find a full stop,
Couldn't find you.

Help me.

Apologies yet guilty free
I, without warning beforehand
Numbered the atoms in your eyes
Every heartbeat in your life
To which accounts for none
But thinking of you at nights
Like this, tonight.

This by no doubt is unnecessary
A waste, a dump down the bowl
But do take this as a sign
Of my effort unrecognised

Questions left unanswered
That which we ask ourselves, why?
Tired from unwanted existence
In this life, you and I

Uncertainty of tomorrow
In the waking of everyday
Strangling ropes to our throats
Dragging cobblestones on railways

Midnight shifting thoughts
That which I ask myself, should I?
Crumpled bed sheets whispering soft
A life we must survive

Empty halls and corridors so void
In an empty city of a heart you toyed
Of which I soiled with water and sunlight
Is now a withered lack of teeming life

Battles on horses under the moon
Leave dead men's corpses in daylight blues
And looting of thieves through opened doors
Stolen heartstrings and broken windows

My heart was never yours to choose
And knowing not your despicable muse
And so you stole the city of my heart
Its light long gone as darkness comes

If so my thoughts could speak for itself
Darling, it will echo 'cross the ocean floor
Scorching through the misty clouds above
Just so it could be with you.

If so my thoughts had a voice of its own
It will hum you a lovely lullaby
Of a poem that I once wrote
With you, my dear, as a dream come true.

And yet my thoughts do not speak
Nor does it contain a voice of its own
For I buried it deep into the blood of my veins
Fear that our thoughts do not bond with each other

I wonder if your thoughts speak of mine
For mine speaks of your existence
I pray as countless nights pass by
For a love that never, ever, blooms