In The Lonely Hour

In the lonely hour

When silence speaks

There is an untold story

Brewing in his heart

It is black as ink

Yet it does not stain

It is red as blood

Yet it does not live

It is the mark of love

Tattooed on his chest

That beats with flagrant force

White as the Sun

When his eyes are open

The seas of chaos prevail

Yet chaos is absent

In that poet's mind

Every arrow

Can slay his heart

Yet none of them can kill him

For he is immortal

When he begins to write

Once in a while

When the lonely hour strikes

He floods his life

With absent emotions

He lets their toxin

Pollute his soul

So once in a while

He can feel what is like

To be alive

In the lonely hour

DA 2014