The mirage isn’t real, the moon isn’t near, the hope, probably feeble, and life, certainly terse. A verse, has to be written to tell a story. Because this fairy tale, is getting gory. You wished for a smile, and walked through the isle, you wished for the reveries to come true. A fine friend, you expected. A flawed foe, and a marred knot, you got. While I hopefully craved for the dawn, you eclipsed into despair with a resentful scorn. Emotions began to take turns on the weighing scale. My pains versus yours, versus our trust getting frail. Giving up may not be your forte, and winning may not be mine. Deprived and devoid of love, we live together, waiting for tides to change, waiting for a sign from Above, waiting for the impossible, waiting for a miracle.
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