I will not hold the blame
for things we've suffered.
I'll call it useless now,
the tragic and the comic.
Did you think my conscience
losing you would disappear?
I am more like hunter missed
his mark, placed again the arrow
and let fly. Although, I am
a secret longing for a kill.
Isn't that what life is afterall-
fall asleep, dream of star and moon,
trapped within the same small space
wakened to the morning's thunder?
When you think of me, I would prefer
it desperately, what constitutes
departure is a sadness, death.
I only looked behind me as a test.
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