It is I who walks in your mildewed obscurity,
tenaciously enduring life's sultry surprise.
It is I who pursues worn paths in empty shelters,
dodging painful remnants of luminous diamond nights.
It is I who lingers between silent regret andapprehension,
as your heart pounds ever so lightly in mine.
It is I whispering your name with dying breath,
as visions of yesterday swallow idealistic minds.
And it is I who wholeheartedly loves you,
even though your love and adoration has died.
It is I that remembers our tantalizing yesterdays,
and prays for mercy with God's blessings from above.