I sit alone scribbling,
My words of love flowing through paper to you,
The dilemma,
You are about to fly away from me
Yet I have not set eye on you today,
My soul is unsettled.
For these words must accomplish;
their task.
Their mission is to preach love,
To a precious yet forsaken soul like yours.
No,
To an unbelieving heart like yours.
I craze for having these orators in my hands
Undelivered.
2006