Love will never go as planned,
Not like we demand,
Here’s an altar for your wisdom, your teachings,
A sea of suffering is for your body,
For you to swim in all tears we’ve collected.
Yet, could you stand the salt?
The taste of pain in your mouth,
Might be enough to protect.
Why had we loved?
Why had we never sinned,
Even as our exploration only gained the rich sorrow?
Even of a world without another tomorrow?
Even of all to see in the faces we borrowed?
Even of everything to die for, in each pain we followed?
I make the mask of innocence,
As you fall beneath the veil, yourself,
And dine on what I drop,
Being tears as large as the moon.