Into confusion, beyond sanity:
A bottomless pit in which solitude
Is the only entity.
I turned to you and kissed your lips,
Though only in my imagination.
The truth ran through me,
Iced like a lake in winter –
Freezing the warmth;
Reminding me that you are nothing
But a memory I visit much too often.
Forming clouds gathered among blueness,
Falling freely among prosperity,
Among the starry nights
And sunny days.
But when triumph gathers at hell’s gate,
Freedom is within an inch of your finances.