What have you done?
She is splendid,
even
in
simplicity,
and you
squandered
the very gift
of her presence.

All your life,
seeking
and
yearning
instead
of
being
and
staying
in Love.

You are *blessed
by The Cosmos of coincidences
that finally led up
to your meeting,
You are blessed
to have been called
Love.

What have you done?
Do these words reach you now?
*What have you done?

I may pass from this earth
some time in the far future,
and yet this would not deter me.
But deny me your smile,
and I will die
**daily

Yearning for your love that will always be true,
Offering these words as a memory of you.
Under the light of the ever-watchful moon,
Affectionately wishing that I'll be with you soon.

Reminiscing of the times when we were together,
Every moment of it all made me feel so much better.
Maybe someday I'll find the right words to say,
You are my only one, and may you never go away.

Surprising me with every little thing that you do,
Uttering your words that are as sweet sa honeydew.
Never wanting to see me down and alone,
Singing me to sleep in your lovely caring tone.

Here in my thoughts, a sweet surrender.
If only this moment could last forever.
Now that we're close, I won't ever let you go.
Eyes that tell me, of a wonderful tomorrow.

A little while ago, you gave me a promise,
For the one thing that you'll never want to miss.
To be with me, no matter how far apart we are,
Even if you're gone, we'll be wishing on the same star.

Rendering me speechless with your sweet caress,
Through the sound of your voice, I have to confess.
Here in your arms is where I want to stay,
Endlessly caring for you, in every single way.

Reaching out to a photo of you and me,
And smiling at how the two of us were meant to be.
Inside my room, I end this one short note.
Not even sleepy, hope you'll like what I wrote.

Pity naught the fool who stood agape at the mouth of the abyss,
Who henceforth became a delirious, demented *******.
For very few are those who return from the precipice
Left with scars  that are all but a trifle.

‘Tis not fire that burns, that brings about anguish.
‘Tis not rain that drowns, that brings about pain.
A sanguine dullard will forever seek to diminish
What a benighted scholar will endeavor to sustain.

Hath thee the prudence
To discern the ciphers
In the deafening silence?
In the earsplitting whispers?

The fiends,
Their eyes
Of sordid coal
Conceal the truth
Of what they are after.
Their forlorn cries beseech the soul
With venom as clear as polished lacquer.