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.