Wasteland of Love

I hold onto you

Hoping the memory will change with time

Hoping something about us could be different

Hoping that through my state of bittersweet reverie

I will become lost forever in a dream I wouldn’t ask to bestir

I would trade all the thrills of life just to lay lifeless holding a picture of your love at one point in our lives in my dreams

I would sacrifice hoping for the next time

For I know it will never come

I will become a cenotaph of the love I once knew, a monument to adorn the grave of my desire

Heartbroken sojourners will look upon me and count themselves blessed

How could they not when they see my ruin?

Without your love, my heart only beats oil

My veins are coated with black tar

My skin becomes like the dust of Dasht-e Kavir

My eyes dry into raisins

My hair remains yellow, but only as yellow as straw… not even fit to eat

My soul and heart, hollow as a locust’s shell

But my mind, fixed on you.

Don’t call my story a tragedy

For it would do my life an injustice to reduce it to just that

Don’t ever speak my name or talk of my love

It cannot be understood through the telling of tales

Don’t mourn and fast and wail for me

Mourning must eventually turn to hope

Fasting will eventually be won by hunger

Wailing will die out as it’s soothed by comfort

Don’t remember my pain and don’t remember me

The song of my heart ceases to beat

The light from which shown from my eyes, onto my lover, extinguished

My breath is pointless, and spent only in vain against my will

Though once Eden I have become a wasteland

Allow me to vanish just as a spray of mist in the heat of the day