your affection waxes and wanes like the moon
but unlike her
you come and go in no discernible patterns
you leave me parched for a glimpse
you let me glut on your presence
i sit shrouded in the dark
with my heart in my hands
and a telescope of yearning

Does life have a meaning?
Are we souls, bound in mortal shells?
Could we ever know the way-
To heaven, away from hell?

Hell, what if this is it?
No ascension, one life, one day?
And with a single mistake-
Does it all go away?

I'm scared, shaking in fear,
Could we comprehend a purpose?
Or once the candle is snuffed-
Is the melted wax worthless?

The dark silently crawled into the dimly lit corridors, the cabins, and my boss's ***** mind.
The cold breeze gently and mercilessly caressed my shoulders, and my boss my *******.
I shivered from my head till toe, while his greedy gaze scanned me, from my head till toe.
The off-key beeping of a distant computer troubled my ears, and so did his hungry voice.
My incomplete files presented a pretty sight in front of his hands piercing through my self esteem.
Per his routine, he'd played all what he wanted with my body, and left it there to perish.
Next day in the meeting he tells his employees, "this office is your temple."
"Sure," I whisper.

Searching the whole wide web for my Queen.
           A 100 likesd

A 100 winks
                  
             A 100 waves

                     A 100 hearts

                          A 100 poked


                                A 100 Tweets


                                          A 100 comments


                                                     A 100 Smiles


Have me wonder if my future Queen somewhere deep in my inbox still left unread.