Looked like a dream, bespoke chaos,
A wildfire in a silent scream gliding across.
There are times she lies hidden in the arms of a clock;
Of late, resting behind a veil of rain drops.
Sometimes she knocks at my door but gets buried in visions on a damp wall;
Wrapped in a tangled romance, in words unsaid,
Before the inevitable fall.
Breaking beyond composure and restrain we meet again!
She, brewing stories on the move;
I, connecting them with mine in a battle of thoughts...
Undoing emotions, letting the heart unclot
But my muse glides, uncaught.
Drifting away with broken pieces
That she steals and always denies,
Has me fading into peaceful abandon
Yet, I always await this goodbye.
We're not your regular lovers,
The dusk and I.