On nights like this,
when the moon is hidden
from my blinded eyes
and the foggy kiss
of memories unbidden
release from me a thousand sighs
I can’t help but hope.
My heart is holy, like swiss
but my mind is riddled,grief-ridden
by unholy hell hounds, spies
from the past that I miss
even though I know it’s forbidden,
I can’t help but hear her cries
and I don’t know if I can cope.
I yearn for it, for that bliss
as if I deserved it, though I didn’t
on account of all the lies
though truthfully I would be remiss
to forget that I was overridden
by the fact I couldn’t compromise,
unable to explain to her the scope.