I remember that instant I talked to you,
Staring at the moon, and as I noticed
The dulcet tones of nightfall.
The words I uttered and focussed
On what actually really mattered.
Was it the losing or the gaining,
Or rather the failing and winning,
Then was it part of the ageing?
I asked you again, since I desired to know
If my love for you, was a calamity,
For when I approached the edge
And questioned our amity.
Have you ever appreciated,
What I considered to be my treasure?
And was the entirety of it nothing
More to you, than displeasure?
These question marks I put
At the end of every sentence
I uttered disgracefully,
pushed me down to repentance.
The thoughts you've left me,
Seem like an irrational issue
I fail to solve myself,
making it hard to push through.
I might not be praying for us anymore,
But my soul will forever pray for you.