I took a glimpse at an angel— so beautiful;
I took a gaze without giving it breath,
I couldn’t recall her name.

And oh, what a shame it was,
Not knowing what to speak, of an outwardly presence,
I relentlessly chased after an old dream,
Hoping for a hint of conclusion— a foreign illusion.

For in spirit and in truth, —
I watched the skies crack open; splitting wildly
My sights, between a longing & desire.

Desire: the great betrayer to an eye,
When what you see, isn’t what you get to own.
Owing to her gaze; upon such a beautiful architect,
But some time later, it all built up another phased regret.

Angels that leave you out of breath,
Whether passing out on their lap,
Or passing idly, on Death.
    Beauty, is all so terrifying.

My Obim <3

Oh how I miss you dearly,

I miss your face,

I miss your smile,

I miss your laughter,

I miss your dial.

My Obim <3

2 years have passed and I just now can mourn your loss,

I miss your smell,

I miss our moments,

I miss our childish acts,

I miss our stories,

I miss our sinful ways,

We promised that we would grow old together

We would share our hearts forever.

Oh my Obim <3

How I miss you my love

And no, this is not a letter to the dead

This is the mourning of a friendship lost

We mourn the end of a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife

But no one talks about the loss of a friend, the end of a soul tie.

We might never reconnect again

But maybe in another life, we would work out to be good friends or maybe even sisters till the very end.

I love you dearly

Goodbye, My Obim <3

When my mind began to cloud, I began thinking out loud.

the void where you once stood,
out of sight, but i knew

from here, you lived only in whispers
in the same breath that escaped,
i heard it, echoed on the wind

from afar

Surely I’d ask; that do the stars not play witness to a love’s beauty:
the belief in  the power of love that runs deep, like the air
we rely on to survive.

It feels like a faith in the unseen forces that sustain us; we have faith in our connections— a testament to the unwavering trust we have, even when faced with the unknown.

Oh, how each passing day can either divide or bring us much closer; seemingly creating a somewhat perfect balance between us—  two halves of a whole, each complementing the other in the ways no else can.

Seems to be a task; navigating through the seasons of every new found relationship; the weight of both parties’ mistakes, all serves as a reminder of the lessons we’ve learnt. Or rather the reminder of our human side. For our present self in thought, faces the future with sometimes a renewed sense of hope, and a determination to cherish and protect that we’ve now built.  

Brick by brick; I lay the depth of my soul, as I yearn for that deeper understanding of the purpose behind any love. — Searching for meaning and clarity, so too, seeking for guidance from a higher power.

Still, I must quarrel with myself.

For the seconds you’d spend with a lover, are as fleeting as a shooting star across the night sky; effortlessly slipping away— quietly turning into the short minutes we try to weave together in the hopes of making it the story of our lives.

Sigh, another love lived, serves as another love that will eventually leave, — and so, another chapter in the story of one’s life.

Tell me this is not the end
That you simply just forget
To ask me how I'm doing
When I'm lonely once again

I am losing faith at best
In the promise that we're friends
I still see no interaction
From the words we haven't said

There's still no standing argument
To suggest it's in my head
I cannot be the only one
Who's concerned the other's dead
(Right....?)

But if there's nothing left to say
Then I suppose I need to rest
Silence can often speak volumes
When you're laying on your bed

So teach me how to handle it
And rest assured I'll try my best
Maybe I can finally get ahead of this
Cause I could really use a reset

To be okay when I'm by myself
And start this once again
To know when i should stop and reflect
To be thankful for all you've been
To me....

They shed no tears as the bridges burned
A lingering stench of phantosmia remains
No pouncet box can mask the memories
Their shame leaks through guilty pores

By Darren Wall ©