I live without light because of many things
I wish not to see or come to terms with.
For the pain it may cause; feelings it brings.
Yes, it’s love. Just an illusion or myth.
Once I thought I had it in my own palm,
Yet it fell like rain from a dark gray sky.
The “Love” we create is just a time bomb
Waiting to explode in the blink of an eye.
But what is it that we create desperately?
A story-tale ending, searching breathlessly–
We fool ourselves with simple chemistry
We go endlessly to find our “destiny”.
But I can guarantee that all it is
Is nothing more than heavenly ecstasy.