Why for miss dost thou torment me so?

Hath I harmed thee in any such way?

For 'tis your beauty that does not let me go

I am captured by it from day to day.

Art thou an angel among the rest?

This cannot be, impossible I say!

For the love of thee is all I request

My heart, lacking thy love, shall decay.

But one should not find their love for I vigor.

Therefor if this love isn't meant to be,

I shall end this charade with one trigger

You can see, you may be the end of me.

But until such day, I shall bind thee tight

For in me, 'tis a fire you light.

I live without light because of many things

I wish not to see or come to terms with.

For the pain it may cause; feelings it brings.

Yes, it’s love.  Just an illusion or myth.

Once I thought I had it in my own palm,

Yet it fell like rain from a dark gray sky.

The “Love” we create is just a time bomb

Waiting to explode in the blink of an eye.

But what is it that we create desperately?

A story-tale ending, searching breathlessly–

We fool ourselves with simple chemistry

We go endlessly to find our “destiny”.


But I can guarantee that all it is

Is nothing more than heavenly ecstasy.

I lay in a room (After a night of intoxication)

I will be up soon (I awaken and find the causation)

Feeling the chilly air (In my pocket I feel a vibration)

Dazed and confused I stare at (My phone, only that)

My situation; complete loneliness.

These lights, they shine so bright,

These colors, they are so vivid,

These sounds so loud, but these feelings. . .


So empty.

Is this real?

It must be.


See the colorful lights,

Hear the loud sounds,

From the illuminated screens


And the elongated speakers.

This must be real.

But is it?


Can a light truly shine if it does not fill the void inside me?

Can a sound truly roar if my ears do not fill me with emotion?

It is what I see and what I hear.  They must be real.  Mustn't they be?