What makes me feel like this, is this taste
This taste of nothing ever tasted before
This very one that happens to be the most
Decent, disgraceful and forthcoming savour
The essence of untangled colours
Of mild texture and thick form
The very heart of all accountable explications
The driving forces of nothingness
Into the inner of myself and under it
When is only myself bending and crossing ahead
Lying the lies of being lied on that floor
Telling the truths of being mischievously played
Human nature, natural nature
All natures instead of this meaning
The spirit of ours does not permit or empower
These questions about to be done all over again
To thou, my dear cloud of the night
I address all the pain from this cold night
And this winter in my heart shall perpetuate
Till the next dawn when we shall probably meet
Meet each other warm and sat atop the candlelight
Chat simultaneously mouthing the air around
Crying tears of joy and happening the to be verb
So to chew away this foetid scent of absence...
