The Tourment

The staying away! Not speaking…. Not telling how my heart jumps whenever…

I wish I could scream it! And yes, I’m so selfish! I say I and I again

and again! Not asking… Not daring to think

Not wanting to know the already obvious answer…

A thousand moons! An army of demons… the soul of a wolf

No curse… no magic stronger than the heart of another

The waltz has no purpose! The march lost its meaning

It only remains in the form of a nightmare

The pain that will never heal but will be forgotten…

And yet the dream! The tourmenting of the sweetness

The almost kiss, the taste, the softness! The shiver

And then the wake up… The almost touch of the skin…

The scent… the perfume left on my hands…

Craziness! Madness…. Tourment… Pain! Yet I am happy!

I feel! Trapped, not wishing for an escape; For there is but one…

Happiness is useless if not shared…

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