• Good bye to sound
    When coldeness comes
    To make its rounds
    Through me and numbs
    My finger tips
    And breaks my thumbs
    And light subsides within me.

    I taste the smoke, and in there air
    I feel the stories, and I dare
    Believe, one day, that we could share
    A pint of laughs and memories.

    I'd surmise the tales he spun,
    For I'd deny he'd lie in loll.
    He wouldn't, nor could he confound;
    I'd cry war, and I'd vie Them all!

    But now, good bye
    To all the songs,
    The roving nights
    And season-long
    Obsessions, dressing
    Fright with fun,
    The closeness and
    The cruelty.