Lately I can feel the lack of fire,
for ever un-content,
only momentarily uninspired...

I seem to have this case,
of hopeaholic syndrome,
not yet a cynical *******,
rudely displaying wisdom.
see, i simply have a tale to tell,
of falling flat from harmony,
my soul can't sing a single note,
without the she that made us 'we'.

Restlessly I toss in slumber,
with quick dreams of falling rain,
joy could never really be,
if it wasn't for this pain.
She was serendipity,
hidden perfectly in disguise,
once my heart is resurrected
my mid will surely rise,
to a level of unconscious yearning,
and the longing will finally fade,
love is the ultimate chess game,
step by step, it must be played.