The last time we spoke was in early hours
Full of impersonal inquiry.
The return of encompassing doubt
Brings back images birthed from tragic experience.

Trailing blood lines lead to the southern coasts
And I begin to doubt the intention of my late inclination.
Another lover unable to contain my heart
Another running away from the abyss of ugly honesty.
It's all very overwhelming and too much to bear.

I will return to live in the well of my brain
And dream of the ocean.

No one will hear this mournful siren trapped in the earth,
For I have picked the most hidden tree to observe from my depth.
Even if they traverse the infinite path,
Only those who bare insanity will look away from the branches of knowledge
And find these pupils in the infernal darkness.
But my heroes never know how to temper these depths,
Either falling to their death
Or painfully giving up with rightful indignation.

The waves of my thought deafen this soul
To the courageous explorers of my immortal caves.
Leave me to the well of my brain, darling.

The early hours bleed into dawn
As I think on the embarrassment I feel in love.
I have much more to understand
And you don't deserve my naivety.
I decide to close my eyes
And force your departure.

Finally, I can sleep with the ease of accepted solitude.