Innocuously unconscious...

The morning light was not enough to enlighten her,
The day the elements of my dream died,
Wearing a dead shroud of indifference over their tattered bodies and crushed spirits,
Using their newly acquired air of individuality to stop the infection from spreading...

There were days she used to bleed for them,
There were days she made a new world of stories with her tears,
There were days she questioned their unity and separation,
Now those days have broken with the break of my dreams and wake of my lids...

The lovers, with their deeper lust and intense attachment,
Feared as their fatal attraction ceased into a pitch black void,
The companions, who bore the other half of the dead souls and beautiful bonds,
Watched as once merry monotony was now a far fetched memory,
The nurturers with their fusion of life, care and separation,
Now watch as their creation enter another world...

She watched from another dimension of the skies,
Mourned in her sleep,
As she woke her tears were bone dry,
Psyched by the heavenly icy cold cold lullabies...

They waited for time to turn just so that they could reach out to her,
They showed her sights, sounds and seasons from her childhood,
A couple of decades ago but long lost in altered perception,
Even tried moments of breaking her into the past that never was,,,

She now ceased to believe that they were living beings imbibed with emotion and ambition,
More so mere characters in her dreams,
Bold and beautiful as well as dark and grimy,
Mere puppets of her unconscious side of the coin,
Who watched as she died many deaths,
Who wilted away as she was reborn with numerous lives...      

Forever lost...

A slip between the cup and the lip,
Seemed to have a rather tragic end,
He dreamed of romance, looked in a sacred casket,
Within two peoples hearts,
She dreamed of love for the world and lust for the wooers....

There were men who loved a piece of chunky meat,
Dreamed of devouring her flesh black and blue,
There were men who thought of true love,
A desire for her in the deepest of nights and a speck of light in the break of dawn,
Then there was her who was numb to it all...

The mighty fall of love proved to rather melancholic after all,
A battle between instinct and acquired taste,
Swirling within the wind of hopes and dreams,
Which paints a rather perfect image,
Not too far from the truth not too close to impulsive perception...

This magic potion was cursed by the demons hands,
Saw it create love and wanted to tear it apart,
Used its broken pieces to wipe its tears,
Used its changing colors to soothe its needs,
Locked it away and denied its consumption to its creators...

The curse of lost love has diverged from its path,
Soon to find it again,
Shall find those who seek the burning ray of passion,
Shall shrike lovers just to created a void,
Of days lived many times over and lone nights...