Melancholy Love

 

The essence of that pure love;
Isn't it not just enough to love another human?
Hand in hand, walk in walk, talk in talk or anything else?
Is it really necessary from that materialistic heart that it should be a plastic one?
Or, can we just give it some patience, the eagerness, the innocentness & the slowness to let us fall in the moshpit of love,
Only for just one last time?

Tonight, the sky turning to melancholic,
The stars shinning in the distance and the moon turning to bloody red,
The wind making the hearts shivering in cold,
The air carrying that similar fragrance,
And that same voice buzzing in the ears;
"Am I in love again?"

Tonight, I want to listen to the saddest song;

In the distance, someone is singing the sorrows of his beloved,
And I want to tell my soul and heart,
"Love is so short, forgetting is so long".

The longing for the manna of love,
To drink the nectar from the eyes of the purest soul,

To just stare at the beauty of the universe,
To see myself, to desire for that extra second on this earth, just to spend some more time;
And I still fear,
I might shut my eyes without saying anything.

I certainly not to want to fall in love again,
Not want to break the fictional heart into more pieces,
Don't want to yearn for some more steps,
Not want to possess the greed that her world is mine,
Not to be impatient when her essence is near,
I certainly don't want anything...but I'm stumbling in my walk and in my talk;
I'm making my steps slow to make her feel more glow,
I rather trying hard to be a listener than to be a speaker,
And I hate to make the commitments for the future that is so uncertain between us.

It's just one of those gray nights,
Sitting in the balcony at 2 AM,
With no glass in hand,
But, half-drunk in my melancholic thoughts,
And, my ink to be my adrenaline,
And, shouting in silence to the world in front of me,

"I love her".