The thought of you,
Is the only thing thats constant,
which i've tried to forget,
which i'm so powerless against,
carrying this burden, my minds debt,
space left for logic, pretty much dense,
ever so eager, ever so intense,
passing of the days,
hinged like a bolt, rusted in its place,
trapped, like a steel display,
the movement forms a rhythmic flow,
thrusting at edge, eager to outburst,
glaring like the sun, a golden glow,
bearing this hunger, this unholy thirst.