The unwritten sentences of my heart are of love. passion, and sorrow. My lips yearn to feel again the exquisiteness of a passionate kiss. The beauty of her smile is indelible upon my withered soul. For so many seasons I have longed for warmth, but my portion has been listlessness and bitter cold. The depths of my heart are many mysteries untold. For just once, can I not taste of love in its unadulterated pureness? I was conceived in pain, and in pain is where I still remain. In shackles of loneliness and desolation I am restrained in heavy chains. The crow perches above me and recites beautiful poems to keep me going, and my withered soul prays for rain. I swear on all that is dear to me that I pray for rain. Even when I can see glimpses of the sun’s rays, the devastation of my soul does not wane. I swear it does not wane. I call on heaven to take away the pain, but the darkness swallows up the bellowing of my misery. My resolve is dampened, but yet I am here. For what purpose do I exist save to endure incessant torment for the rest of my days? After years of heavy sorrow there is no more weeping, and acceptance of one’s fate sets in. The bottomless pit seeks to swallow me whole and totally decimate me. Oh, Lord of my Fathers, look down upon your rugged son and see the extent of his desolation. Reverse time, so that I can once again feel the warmth of my mothers bosom. Let me go to a place where an angel awaits and unload my burdens as she kisses me tenderly. Let pain not forever be my portion but love, peace, and majesty. Restore to me what was lost when my heart shattered and the vultures circled over me seeking to consume the remnants of what once made me happy. Even the memory of the wonderful scent of her hair haunts me. I swear it haunts me. At night, she comes to me, whispering: my love is a deep well; draw from me — and I drink of her essence to sustain me. I swear somehow she sustains me. For hours, I meditate upon the beauty of her love in divine intimacy. We feel each other deeply in transcendence from mere physicality. In my frailty, she is the heart that beats for me; I swear she is the heart that beats for me. In my dry desolation, she is the oasis that awaits me. Haunt me, my love. Haunt me beautifully.