Amorphia

I see the screen

I see the amor

In the air, in the night,

In the morning I feel so

Melancholy and drab.

The air sticks to the lungs

The moisture clouds the eyes

I wake to find time slowed

I turn and find the meaning

I walk forward and it is gone

Love to walk

Hate to run

But I lie

I want to be honest

While the truth is

Never what I want

Hate to try

Love to wait

But I don’t.

The white lilies

Wake to the sound

Of birds and the

Warmth of the pond

Why must I weep?