Night XI

The moment that you tell her that you love her but she doesn't.

...And there she was,
Cold against my skin,
As I held her hand it felt-
Tasteless, burnt and numb-
Perfectly like my own.

...I tried to believe,
In everything I hoped to say,
This is my portrait-
The portrait of my eternity-
Perfectly like I dreamed.

...But the stillness of the sky,
Paved its way into my heart,
The darkness I wish I never knew-
The sadness which I never felt-
Perfectly found its place.

...And there it is again,
The burning sensation in my chest,
How could I forget? The taste-
The sad taste of a tear
Perfectly endearing desolation.