This one day to be remembered.
This one number to be recalled.
Seven are the capital sins,
sure I’ve fell into a handful of them,
and for them I’ve been paying my share.
All matters considered, grateful for the lessons and gifts.
Seven is also an important date.
One of both sorrow and blessing.
“And on the seventh God rested”
And on the seventh of may I was gifted the most beautiful creature.
And on the seventh day of the following month,
then came the punishment.
To take thy punishment and turn into lessons,
to appreciate my wealth, my health, myself.
To hope.
Tonight, the dawn of the one seventh day of the seventh month
Hoping.
For her to be thinking of me [us(also)] as I think of her,
while I think of her, of our day.
For this new trail to bring our paths to a crossing.
Hoping.
(That) I haven’t driven her away by my mistakes, my misdeeds.
For hers are my thoughts, prayers and heart.

Lost between words, buried by thoughts.
Tonight the distiller is dripping moonshine I drown my sorrows in.
The smoke of ****** marijuana mixed with tobacco takes over the gallery.
A handful of souls still awake. One thing in common we all have, the dream of freedom.
Killers, robbers, dealers, here one is no different than the next.
All government merchandise.
With the late hours of the night comes the silence.
As silence takes over, the hypnotic sound of the moonshine dripping from the distiller take one’s thoughts on a journey deep inside the mind.
Little by little the bottle fills up as the mind empties.
It is time the ghosts visit. Time to leave this place with them.
Cruising the known world in my mind. To be with the loved ones, at least on my imagination.
They seem to show up in waves. She is usually the first one. We talk, we dance, take long walks, but is never enough.
There is so much to know about her still.
Then come the friends, family. Eventually some actual ghosts even.
Slowly the moonshine and the writing give place to sleep.
The chance of meeting her in my dreams, moonshine inebriated.

One more day, one night less. Memories seem to fade along with the sands of time. Paper and pen run scarce as my thoughts flow through them, flushing away all thoughts not worth the ink. Cards flying, dices rolling, but the clock hands don’t seem to spin.
Standing inside these walls while my mind drifts outside. Like a crow, through the bars and over the walls I travel. I can go anywhere, but there is no place I rather fly to than a place my mind needs yet to know. From all the places I’ve been to, all the people known to me, my heart always takes me to the same person. But where do we meet? There are not enough shared memories to fill this void, so every night a new one is created. Every night I take her to visit my own favourite time and places, in the hope that one day I can actually show her the world and create our own memories. But will she go? Am I worthy of this blessing? One can only hope, so that turned into a routine.
Life as is, reduced to a bi-modal state, echoing over two desires. The one where I am freed from the restraints on this place and the one where I get restrained in her arms. The latter one, true freedom.

The full moon makes a shiny appearance, briefly, through the bars.
Not for more than five minutes she dances for me. Not for more than a glance, but enough for her face to again haunt my thoughts.
Darkness takes over the sky from where I stand, once again. But the mere faded memory of her light populates my thoughts with a glow of hope and joy. Sadness mixes with this joy, tears turn into courage when she smiles at me, her name echoes with every rhyming word, her face shows up on every shade, every single star brings back memories of her eyes.
Sleep now seems like my only ticket to be with her, so again I lay with none but my memories, hoping for her to visit my dreams.
Night has been my best companion. Alone, left with my thoughts and nothing else. Now I can be myself, can at last meet my beloved again. She awaits me in the realm of my dreams.
Time spent these days seem like a looping nightmare, and when finally asleep is when really I am alive and back in reality. Daytime feels a coma-like state.
I shall leap out of these bars and walls one day and never allow myself to daydream like this again, and my only warranty is that she will be with me, asleep or awake.

I've found a reason, a reason to be, one to live
You were my reason
But I've lost you
I have lost my reason
I've lost it.

Silence or deafness, how should I take it
What can be worse,
Not to hear, or not to be told at all.
Love has its perks,
Some are not said, some are not listened at all.