if you were wind,
you'd be the zephyr of the sea,
from the throbbing tide washed onshore

if you were a light,
you'd be a lone star in the night sky,
sneaking out to twinkle upon my skin,
whilst moonlight baptize us with twilight’s rhapsody.

if you were better days,
you'd be sweet tears of sun,
bleeding hope rays
on the dark parts of our days

but you're just a fluttering shadow, growing old,
a rusty church bell chiming in a city of skulls,

a fistful of lost grips of lifelines
a pyre of martyrs in a valley of blights,

a burning cold icing beneath the sea,
and lingering longing leaning on air.


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