My disease

The hours spent feel brief
but it has brought years.
The bond seasoned with complications
cooked by explanations
served with contemplations
and tears or joy, as choices for desserts.

Decisions and patience
pride put aside
hearts left out open
walls dissolved from sight
vulnerable to you
and only you
always here for you
with no intentions to move.

Been chased by the ghosts
of what you once were
what you are
however fail to meet
of what is yet to become,
of you,
of us.

Losing sleep and now faith
but faith only always be restored
you have that power,
over me.

I will be elevated high up
only to be left hanging
you will come to rescue me,
soon.
You will come.
But I have fallen.

The pain, the aches, the wounds
will heal.
The sorrow, the anger, the happiness
will fade.
But I will never be cured
from you.


1345 hour (29/11/09)


Notes : oh why.