Oh how consistently woeful, you do survive;
Treading in your perpetual sea of sadness,
You sit in a trance.
Do not sulk in your ever-dying standards.
To seek aid from the closest personal space
In a limited universe of conundrums
Is not where the freedom lies.
Like a kindred wayfarer I am, waltzing
Through your quagmire of moral quandaries;
Dilemmas and Consequences.
You with your tortuous ambiguity:
Expressions and innuendos.
Hints, suggestions and allegations.
Would that I would give you what you desire;
That of which you would deserve much more.
For what you are truly in wont of;
In careless desire for...
Is something of which I cannot offer:
Heedless affection and dauntless attention,
Coolest of warmth and most perilous of searing fires.
To have your being perched and heralded
Upon the most grandiose of love's peaks.
If only there were a soul to personify
Your emotions; your essence...
Only then would it seem in perfect tandem arrangement.
Only if the present circumstances
Approached us in a slightly different manner,
Wishes and charity would not be so unrealistic.
If it was easy to add or subtract years
Of wisdom and insecurity,
Then it would be simply so.
To have the equations of happenstance
So easily unmodulated
Would be a gift and a curse at once.
Instead, attrition will wear faith thin,
And the intended, meaningless thoughts
Will sentimentally fade
With passing seconds;
Passing laughter.
-SMW [06_17_02]
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