You have me waiting,
bated with the promise of a new beginning.
I tiptoe on the edge of the happy future
That will neutralise all prior sinning.
My conscience has me crowned conical.
Did those explosions teach me nothing?
Is the suffering the addiction
or is it you?
Is love just a drama?
I believed those dreams were of contentment
but compromised with the grime of real lives.
Did you fan the flames of your adoration
To burn away my flaws from you contemplation?
In this, my miserable search for honeyed bliss
I spend thousands on feathers to fly to a life
I don’t have.
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