No one deletes my messages any moreNo one treasures the illusions so much more

Survival, the primal instinct erases all

Yes, it’s self preservation which drowns 

My see saw path of unlinear mourning 

Selfish in its misery, narcissistic in tears

Makes one cling to the vanishing melancholy 

It’s as if I am bidding a farewell once more

Loosing the warmth of the memories in time

There is just one voice of reason for now

Minutes and hours of time, aloof and alone

Must flow into years for the agony to die.