In a twisted scheme my mind is playing on my heart, it has convinced me to believe that we weren’t supposed to be apart. That barriers of lands and seas and languages and fame and fortunes and faith should all vanish and fade the moment your eyes and mine meet.
In a fleeting manner that a footstep lands on the ground, so should untainted magic work in my favor for our roads to suddenly and supernaturally intertwine. Stop all rhyme and reason, calm and chaos, past and future, odds and ends, from keeping us broken apart.
In the end I’m still here and you’re still there, but in a non-existent universe I ache to see us so perfectly warm in each other’s longing arms. It may not be now or ever, it may not be my come hither, either way I’ll stay incessantly lifted high in the bittersweet ecstasy that makes me think we’re meant to be.
In a way, we all live in our own worlds and all my hope is in our worlds to perfectly crash and insanely burn for each other. But for now, I’ll be content with the truths I could superficially hold on to.
Like how I could get frantically lost staring at your yearning eyes all day, fall ethereally asleep with the sound of the strings you play, be astounded by your reassuring voice, completely ignoring all the noise, understand the broken in your tears that euphorically expose all your fears.
But when there’s no more music and melody, no more dreams of you and me, no more imperative priorities, maybe then I could bend and break reality, and in a hopeless case but un-impossible prayer, you’ll meet me exactly halfway.
And right then and there all we’ll have left to go is onwards and upwards, never fighting but just flying towards what destiny truly wanted to make happen when the stars weren’t yet as high as they are now, the seas weren’t yet as deep as my desire, the dread wasn’t yet as strong as raging seas, the hope wasn’t yet as bizarre as the next spectacle.
I begged every god I know, but no one seemed to hear my plea. There’s no such whisper in the night, no such wonder that set the light, no clear sign that our time is near, no divine intervention to save us, dear.
Giving you up is far worse than giving everything up, because you are worth more than an overflowing cup of the purest stones in this grand recap.
Everything, everything, everything. Everything suddenly seemed so dull.
Let me be, let me be, let me be. Let me be surrendered in lull.
This is a letter of a love that never is and never will be.
Don’t dare come later for a man that never sleeps and never breaks free.