it's just a delusion
a lie to get inside
to bore through the soft flesh
of another one's heart.

the termites that terminate
they degenerate, disintegrate
left alone and cold
the bleeding feeling of pain
of a longing not untold.

and yet waiting for the day
when the butterfly wings unfold.
when all the sunshine falls
upon the body
when all the happiness
devours the mind.

all the good comes from one smile
all the time could never be the while.
its just not fair that longing always turns into despair.

tragedy is not without tomorrow
the smile is not without sorrow.
it's just another day spent
just another one night event . . .

love is a delusion
and maybe we all long to be
delirious . . . devoted, enveloped.

it's with sinking fear
that pain is longing
for that certain feeling
of utter despair.