When days, become weeks, become hours,
become minutes, become a flash
of reasoning, become a circle of deceit
never intentional
always irrational
when love turns away
suggests another day,
this one was meant
to be not what we wish or believe
yet instead only to become
what is now,
certain
without any hope,
all indifference
will be the guiding energy
shallow in its dreams
that once held the waves of an ocean tide
deep in the sea of fantasy
beyond any reality
a fisherman might watch a dive
get out of my dream
suggests the angry soul
lost now forever inside a cavernous
prison of sweet remorse.
apersonaljourney - stories of love 