Only for the Night

I spot her across the room,
she looks at me and i know,
this game she thinks we're playing,
all those subtle signs she keeps conveying,
but I know...
I see her ways,
those ways that women think they have control;
but into their dreams I have seen once many moons ago,
when foolishly I tried to take a mere slice of my own,
but plundered far down below,
into darkened recesses of my soul,
where the desires of men lay hidden;
and then bidden unto me,
was a false smile to hide what lays beneath;
and with that powdered remedy,
comes this deceitful empathy;
happiness with chemistry;
and with it she readily takes me by the hand;
these best laid plans of mice and men
that go often askew;
Now that surging feeling boils to the brim within me,
that sense of knowing,
becoming what I thought I never would,
I thought I never could.




That desire to consummate,
to procreate;
has lead me here to this darkened place.
Her incepting my bullshit,
ingesting each and every one of those comforting fabrications,
congesting her mind with carnal lust;
stroking her voluptuous curves,
her shimmering blonde hair,
whispering tenderly into her ear,
I know exactly what she wants to hear;
and now she's here, in the room of a stranger.
where I've confined her,
and I gently incline her,
intertwined together under the covers of darkness,
fervidly caressing and touching,
cluthing onto,
seeping into one anothher,
in this seemingly tender embrace of lovers.
She incites me, invites me to delve further still;
merging, melting,
sweltering in the flickering of blue and red lights under the glittering night sky.
Sweat dripping,
bodies heaving,
teeming masses stirring in the darkness;
conceding to, completing eachother...
Yet in an instance,
after we seem to trancend time and space itself,
when the moment seems to end suddenly;
abruptly are we returned to dismaying reality.
When that beastly desire has been tamed;
do we realize that this was all mere fantasy,
bur an illusion of sensuality.




Now I lay here awake
whilst she sleeps an unwakeable slumber;
into the that deep abyss I plunder.
In between these sheets of peaks and troughs
that gently rise and fall in the silence of the morning hush;
wrapped in contemplation,
trapped in deliberation,
palpating and remediating in quiet introspection,
The callow light creeps through the curtain,
flooding the room in a warm orange hue;
whispering's or life echo from the garden,
and soon the day shall begin anew;
as I wait here patiently and unmovingly,
till she opens her eyes unexpectedly,
and gazes unto me,
still confused in lethargy,
but still smiles and kisses me tenderly,
embraces me lovingly;
but then we will most surely part out seperate ways,
never to meet again for the rest of our days,
I wonder if she'll even remember my name?




This brief meeting,
the moment so fleeting;
and now she will never get to see,
all I had to give her,
all I could have given her.
So it remains that only bitter memories I retain,
which seemingly fade away into nothingness,
mere reflections in its still shim-erring surface,
where there were once dreams of greatness,
but now deep below they are left to fester and decay,
clinging to fragments of my soul,
till one day there is nothing left
but me in hole;
left to slowly rot away,
Yes I will die one day,
or so I hope and pray.