This is the tragedy you see, he will never be as I dream him to be never feel the warmth that I do never lie beside me nor feel this closeness in soul and body for he will never be near to me, skin to skin to radiate life within when bodies blend beyond barriers of being, nor look me in the eyes to seek this light spreading with his touch.
It will never be you see, for he sits on my throne while I sit near his feet. I look up forΒ Β light, he never bends down for he seeks not what's unknown to him a darkness that never broke.
It will never be this new moon will never be a full moon. It will not be, not be I wish I could believe what reality is shouting at me that hope has no life in the futility of my pleas.