O! Beloved

To all the places I've been, my heart stops at your door. I ask myself, is this what I wanted or is this something already destined? My gaze meets your soul, penetrating every single bond known to humanity. Does this connection really exist in this material world? Or is this me daydreaming about something unachievable? Perhaps the answer lies in your palms which hold nothing less than my destiny. Do you hear me cry? Do you feel uneasy? What is this feeling? Each second passing by, my life pulling me closer to your breath. Is that what I breathe too? The same words I whisper too? Is this something I always had but never knew? What makes you open your doors to me? Is it me kneeling or is it love? Are you sharing yourself with me or are you giving yourself to me? These questions, they don't let me sleep. In this constant roleplay of existing, you made me act in strange ways. Who promises life until death sucks life out? Who promises happiness until all the roses turn brown? Why am I promising you a future which is slipping away? With you I see eternal happiness and peace. What do you see with me? Broken mirrors and bloodshed shadows? A wretched soul and torn flesh? With you I see endless skies and clouds in harmony. What do you see with me? Cracked walls and broken dreams? Outcast voices and shattered windows? Something I want to get off my chest will still stay there, for my chest homes your memories which don't want to be abandoned. Do you want to abandon your dreams and live with me? Leave your soul and be with me? Sell your eyes and see with me? Is this something you really want? My hand holding your neck and evaporating your heart to inflamable gas? Ignite my soul, will you? These voices in my head want me to die, let me die at your grave. Bury me under your name, one last time I will rise as your companion maybe. Escort me to your prison, willingly I will follow your path, show me all you've kept aloof from eyes evil, that want nothing but to see you die. Look into my eyes once and you will see pain and happiness at war, the later wanting your hands, and pain wanting to die at your hands. Kill me, burn me alive, all that will burn is the person who doesn't belong in this world of yours so truly white. My blood won't stain your walls, I promise. The reds won't flow, and the whites want to flow. Paint my hands with your destiny, what is there to lose? At my expense I cost no more than a bouquet of dead flowers, make ash out of my tongue for I speak too less. Forgive me if that's the best you can do, I have heard miracles of your prayers from people I don't know. As for who I am to you, decide that for me, for I am waiting at your door eagerly.

Yours truly,

Ihsaan Want.