Sometimes when I see the sun
getting back to its misty cradle
and I hear the noise of the world
in its tired, worn out descendo,
a longing for you fills my heart.

If I had to live my life over again,
I would have refused
to love you back then
I would have turned my back
and stopped wishing
under a blind sky.
I wouldn’t have taken
your hand at all.

Now I am only filled
with grief over our past
that didn’t happen.
I cannot keep loving you though
without the liberty to be myself,
without the freedom to take my own flight
and conquer the long night
you’ve caused my untamed heart.

I do long for you, yes.
Sometimes.
When my heart longs to say something.
But then again,
there’s nothing left to say.