A Darkness, surprising, although not abnormal
Seeps into thought, about
The self that is imperfect.
While sadness looms, there is no other thought.
By the unspoken words
Is my Love injured.
One cannot see the bee before the sting.
For what good purpose is my behavior?
I grieve for a lost thought.
I grieve for a lost moment.
Common words may not suffice.