Breathless, like the quiet breeze,
rests your silence in my strife.
Timeless, as a soul at peace,
but worthless, as emotions freeze,
is it my heart that leaves your life.
But you, still, look deep me in my eyes;
say, is there madness or a star?
Though still, you pull the string of lies;
Don’t you know, we yearn demise?
We drift away from what we are.
So taste the bitter in my kiss,
the ashes, that I now adore.
We cry for what we surely miss;
the wounded wind becomes a hiss,
till nothing chokes of life no more.