I had a sneaking suspicion,
That you were submerging,
Slowly into the soft scent of my burning soul.

What went wrong my dear?
Was the wrath of my wistful wondering,
Wrecking the fragile walls of your wishes?

Perhaps the pressure of my painstaking peer,
Put you in a position,
Of perilous pondering.

But, in the essence of our existential existence,
Did you ever stop and elaborate,
Did you even think about our everlasting escapade?

Maybe we can marvel at our mortality,
Make peace with our mirrors,
And make do with our maddening monstrosities.

Loving you lately has been anything but lovely,
Yet we find the time to lie low,
Laughing in our liar's lair,
Laying waste to our labored lives.