I have dreamed of you
and prayed for you,
hoped against hope and sanity
to be held within your arms.
Alas, dear one, the time has passed
for the acceptance of such embraces,
were I to allow for such indulgence
I would cease to be my own.
The path of my soul betrayed,
the woman you love gone,
dead by characteristic suicide.
Do not ask of me promises
I do not know I should keep.
Create yourself, then recreate again,
invent into yourself the prophecy
of self and hence become
the man you strive to find
within the words you scribe.