Starved of love; you are obsession.
Slave of faith; hope's divination...

I could still remember
it was Morton's Irish Bar...

Faerie lights twinkle in her backyard
beckoning love from cities afar...

Strong hard liquor,
does it heal the pain...

Freeing up my heart
for fields that lay a'yonder...

A blunder;
a fault...

A calligrapher of sullen mind,
captivating in his inked work so fine...

You threw my heart into the flames
so to feed your dying affection...

His shadow cast a forlorn blanket
upon the path as he treads by...

Without love,
would survival be compromised...

His arms reach out for
spring's sole reason...

...