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Death of Desire

Desire was but a feeble fetes
Lingering in the vacuum
Of my sad heart,
While sound asleep
In the corner of the womb
Of my frustrated feelings,
It hears; it feels
During the passage of time
Whatever I pass through,
And learn from my woes,
Every single moment, hope ignites
This doomed desire of mine
In finding an equal mate,
It hears, it feels the beats
Of my fluttering heart
Which begins to wake up;
To feel alive,

In my dumb
Coarse time

It seems that teenagers
Liveliness and hastiness are
Not destined for me to heel,
Those everlasting wounds,
Heart beats are too strong for my style,
To bear to fulfill,
Hence the desire of my life
For living; for life
Is born dead.

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