Waiting for the Devil’s Return

The rain is sending me your cold message. It is written so clearly on every heartless droplet.

I know it’s over, but here I am. Waiting. Hoping. Dreaming. Watching you through the eyes of my freezing soul.

I know I should let go, but my weak loving arms are stuck on holding on to where it all began…

My heart is stuck on loving your overrated image.

My mind is stuck on our eternal wonderful memories that never fade but never happened…

I search for our sunshine, but, all I see, are the clouds of your illusions.

All nude and yours to take; and yet, you are nowhere to be seen. I’m staring at my blind hope, on the outskirts of my dying logic.


Be the model

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About Marius Barbulescu

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