I woke at 5am again...
With the sadness of never seeing, you again...
Then at 8 I wake, to feel your hand on my face...
Then why do tears mingles with your flesh?
As you caress...
The truth lies between 5 and 8...
Where I exist to never leave...
Of the belief that neither is my life...or it might be already too late...
I rise at 6 instead and hide the dread of what might be...
That I have lost you for eternity...
Pretending is often soothing to the mind...
But rarely consoles the heart, which never fails to remind...
That love endures and anchors the heart...
Only to exist before the one that is love...parts...