Was there a beginning of something?
Or just hints of plausible fragmented chaotic ends?
Maybe they were there like pieces of cracked nothings,
But perhaps not - like endless cosmic scends.  

As your red lips curved near the crinkles of your cheeks,
Everything came to a dull gray blur.
My heart did beat as if you're the one it seeks,
And I couldn't help but feel weak with sudden anxiety and amour.

You've produced a crevice inside a forgotten vessel,
Leaving fear instead of the usual nonchalance.
Dreaming that I rest in your unearthly cradle,
Where I'll lay beneath death and living without constant balance.