You asked me once, "what pains you, dear?"
You asked, "what are you looking for?"
All these thoughts collected, still,
And I think, "what are we waiting for?"
Can you glimpse into the future,
And tell me what lies ahead?
Perhaps, it's best if I don't know,
Perhaps, I'll sit back and watch the show.
Tormented thoughts like crimson blood,
Drying on my paled skin.
Just when I think the wound has healed,
Again, it opens,
Again I feel
And you -
Not able to reach out and touch me.
Why is it you sometimes stay awake at night?
Sitting by my bed, while I sleep,
Watching, like a gaurdian angel,