My tempestuous crashing cries are what you should be mindful to
The empty maw in which I posses spills out no whimpered words
Then again, it's muteness is so loud
And thinking you being too obtuse to the fact and failing to decode the locks of silence is nothing but my own fault
It is much easier to be satisfied with the illusion that you get lost in distraction with the burning stars of the night
The way you gracefully fall into the fiery core of each burning sphere
Falling in love with the night sky the same way I plummet in passion over you
Waves of satisfaction drown over in those instances, for all of your troubles vacate in that moment
And for me, when all worry has left you, I'm in ecstasy
I wish that you would let my love fathom your stars of hurt back into perfect constellation
The things I would give to posses the power to manipulate gravity to make you fall for me