Yet again I dream of confusion, in the empty space you created.
Once a flourishing stave of quavers, now an awakening deserted.
Unspoken words in a cage they scream, no peace may I find in a silent reprise.
And yet most serene and blissful I felt when I think of you in my paradise.
Remember of my last dream I uttered, childish that I was and still am I?
End of a dream when the cold airs flutter, of our empty space I too well realise.
Bloody tears and pulsing veins, a crying heart most painful my demise.
Eternal doom is in this world my fate, yet that fate you queried and shattered my lies.
And yet afraid we are of us, of the caring, the frailty, the ungraspable other.
Unseen love where your beauty hides? Is this mystery not her very nature?
Too soon I arrived and too soon you appear, too soon for our wisdom to bear.
In silence I shall suffer for thee for me, write to me but not of what you wear.
For to you I belong, all else for you I journey towards and to you I return.
Under the clouds, a soft song, though you hear not of how my passions burn.
Let me be yours, your slave or your prince, I will die for you, my heart’s urn.
To thyself be true my friend