Seven billion hearts strewn around the globe, populous bathed in repetition, no scope for a fair chance, no sonnet for redemption.

But, I still walk that road, the one that leads to a fair abode, rest my head, sink inside, dwell before my thoughts die, a penchant for ideas, a lust for better lies.

Keep filling myself with those somber coves, orifices to darker graves, like tombstones lined with cryptic tales.

I spin webs, just so I don't fall, fall into the truth of us.

To see my love for you, all that pain that boils through, keep dying, only to rise, a promethean guilt guised.

It hurts because I can't say, words suffice but they aren't so right.

Pour my heart out, only to have it lapped up, a dark cloak, the antagonist to virtue.

I do want you, but not like before, the times when my vows were lore.

Every moment without you, my soul craves, my heart keeps pushing away, a boat sliding on still water, nymphs that remora under.
-Angad Nanda