In my darkest hour I beg for your voice:
A reply to let me feel once again,
a word to fill the emptiness of strength.
I want to embrace you; keep you from the evils of this world and it will be my last task...

Your memory of being is acidic:
I cannot bare being left to silence.
Save me from this reality,
save me from this today,
save me for your fantasy.

Your smell is sweet and nostalgic:
It rips me apart and envelops me.
Ride with the ice to your true home of arms.

I want you:
to be home,
more than existence,
more than air,
Because without you I cannot take in to breathe, to be the ice and the home of arms.

Your tears are gray and filled with the pain of seldom:
I will cry on your shoulder and you will cry on mine.
Your tears prove life and your existence imitates art.

You are sweet and kind hearted and I am infatuated by your existence which I cannot bare to leave for another...