Against the gentlest ashen bones n’ flesh I brush my skin and devour this gest Driveling to stretch these moments last For let me relish this spell afore; My beloved becomes my precious past
On this illusory floor of lustrous dreams I smash the glass of self-esteem Tapping and whirling until I’m bereaved For let me evanesce in pulse afore; The hour is struck of my beloved’s leave
I pluck the leaves of my insanity n’ grief And brew it well with my rusty belief On this unsullied tongue I taste the wine For let me drink before they lift; Walls around my beloved’s shrine
Over the tormented waters; I build a wharf and cast my woes And I lay in peace as a sleeping child Whilst averting noises n’ my cries For let me rest in peace afore; Veils are laid as my beloved dies
Every weekend I just rush back home to spend whatever moments I am left with my family (God knows). There is no greater blessing than love of our parents. So in the poem I just tell myself that its ok to be carefree at times, and its ok to run after your foolish desires at times as long as you can cherish those; for once you are deprived of the greatest love (for death is inevitable), none of it would ever be the same again; what pleased you once would never please you again as much. The music I listen to with my father; the taste of food I enjoy with my mother; the same food and the same music would always be accompanied with pain.