One neglected kiss,
Among a hundred.
One bloody wave, to another thousand,
And I am upon this ocean, kissing its breeze.
It no longer heals,
When the waves were singular, in my mind,
Soon as love tossed aside, my forlorn life.
Beauty is feeble
Upon roses made of thorns and no petals.
Just a stem that I loop around my head,
To be alike Christ, whose flesh is staring into pain,
Among pain’s brambles and twists.
Like love, without a monarch,
Like love, without a vision,
And we are,
Like two gulls over the distant tomorrows,
The audible laps,
That wave away the sighs, the laughter,
And then, tomorrow never came.
I cannot take a single step into this lake,
For it is an ocean,
And I would be lost.
My eyes are hit by the thorns,
Lashed by the thorns,
And smothered by the crown,
Where only a monarch of this much pain,
Resides, so empty upon his throne.
Like two distant birds without a voice,
We are neglecting the kiss,
And we’ll die without it,
Because, the ocean has crossed it,
And we have left it to drown.