Mystery surrounds the echoes of my mind Words of forgotten prose I simply cannot find A memory misplaced in this ever growing scenario Of hopelessness Sorrow and impulsively acting like a half demented child Not able to advocate the needs and wants it expects from me This is you in retrospect An unfulfilled moment that spread into a lifetime A woman so rigid she has no soul but for herself in that second A listless pitiful attempt at loving someone like me Whoever I might be The one always excreted on from an enormous height Spurned out like wasteful matter at the speed of light From a heart so disassociated from what we once called a miracle Yet in amongst the ruins, I’m the one who’s cynical?