Yet another scribbled entry in this diary of lies,
Paralysed, in this pseudo world of one.
Whispers, whispers of near-naked misunderstandings,
Sometimes hard to breathe through invisible tears.
Safe, warm worlds under cold silken sheets equals,

Dream.

Curled uptight, yet tap-tapping on the smeared glass.
Morning shadows flicker through swollen tear stained eyes,
To enlighten, or darken, my first thought,
On this, the first day of the rest of my life.
Spirit of someone, I once loved and lost,

Imagine.

Replay the misery of the third act in this tragedy.
Cupid's arrows litter the heart-shaped target on my back,
Broken in this playground of my life.
Spirit flickers once more through the shutters of my eyes,
I scream again, in this epitaph of human sorrows,

The Fool

I wrote a silly love song at your behest.
Kissed a princess with an oh so warm smile,
On the third day of forever.
Gloriously romantic, a tiered wedding cake,
Happiness and sunshine forever and ever,

Amen.

But this is not a love song.
The lyrics bleeding like the melting chocolate cake,
Tears, scripted in the fourth and final act.
Sat and chewed away the nails, blackened,
As shadows darken, mournful morning sunshine.

Peace.