a black opaque encroaches the water
where my hands scribe away
the lyrics to the self-unaccepted;
i am singing nonsensical rhymes,
and dancing for a love that has not life
but only an existence.

fear
is a night alliance struck against the moon,
and my voice is fed to the hazy shade
of winter's perennially bitter morning.

love
is a cruel bestow inside my throat;
i cannot climb the mountain of memory
as i must for a surrendering glimpse of you,
with just a hum of the twilight tune.

the failure of returning the signals
to another's wanting soul, never meant
the beloved could not grasp its weight
or the impure truth
that iced the heart with snow.

i cling to the spores of my tongue.

for i, singing the twilight tune
am merely be a flightless voice.
and say it were once to soar,
i would climb the mountain of memory
only to realise the glimpse creates a thirst
for many mountains more.