Desolation is death.


I know when I love,

I know when I don’t.

You know, I loved you.

I know you loved me too…


You won’t have asked me my opinion, otherwise,

I know, it was because you felt it too.

I didn’t want to use my words to tell you,

You’d have said I’m just good with words.

I wanted to show you, unlike anyone has ever done—

Wishing to give you something, to which you could hold on.

I knew, like I do when a time is right.

Our time, love, just wasn’t right.


You know, I’ve dreamt of you,

You know, here, I cannot lie.

I’ve dreamt of you, all the while

Through those dusty, empty playgrounds,

Wandering and wishing to cry like the others,

Hurting my knee I wanted to smell of spirit,

To try and bleed, to laugh and run and be a kid.


I was never meant to be the observer, like you.

But to leap and fall and fly.

I loved you not for your wisdom, I know you’re not.

You’re the very special kind of same like me—

A human child, who never really got to grow up.

I loved you, you know, walking a different tangent

Not many others like me usually take.

A lonely, stealthy way, through the dark underworld

Of unholy instincts and the rampant traditional beasts.


You thought I loved you, but really, do you know love?

Yes, I loved you in my own way, that you aren’t supposed to know

You would’ve slowly learnt, had you let me run the show.

You would’ve made me yours, to never let me go.


But instead, I died in the underworld.

I am not sure of the love, and what happened in the cold.

I am a creature of the underworld, I will rise again.

But the question is will you remember me, even once?

And if you, do, will you ever arrive within yourself to question,

Who to blame and who, of bailing out of mere chance?


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