That feeling, everyone says is a lie,
could I write it away, how come
you, too, found it this way---
some passing storm to be chased away,
a temporal destruction, playing behemoth
to my thoughts--- but, the blood on the walls
speaks of a painting,  a kind portrait, doing
nothing but well, not lying and conniving, but
for some good with me striving.

That face grinned, as I fell, but my heart no difference from love
could tell,
my love wishes us eternal, thinks the chance supernal, and i know
no doom, she could spell.

What will it take for these walls to collapse, the melting turns,
of an imbibed night,
A warm veil , of hazy write, or some harder conjur to hide my soul from plain sight--- I once thought, from love they might, but their frames nothing but lies would invite, now false windows of false horizons fill my heart, and these false images start my plight.

Deceitful suns in my sight, they fell, and i wished on every dying light,
as the world ended, fell to the chagrin of skies
I thought of you, and waited, like i always do,
I threw up one last kite

She's not coming but she might
I watched my hope battle the air like sand,
and truth tattered my joy, and charred my last strands,
I awoke.

I started towards the hallway, but left to the truth of night,
going to place, I passed everywhere we'd been