Slow burning embers of leftover passion,

they await,

quite patiently and longingly

to witness the aftermath that never was

the aftermath of self-destruction.

Arms wrapped lovingly around

the bundle of blankets, and hot chocolate

from which hands are gathering warmth

amidst cold and unkindly deserts.

The moon shines brightly tonight

it seems symbolic of love (in the hay-day)

A constant, cruel reminder of coy smiles

and hands slithering down one's pants,

Of a confused mixture of lust and need

confused with lovely feelings of love.

Tired eyes which find it hard to blink again

and lift themselves up to stand up to a world of pain

terrible tragedies trigger unfamiliar emotions

they're as real as the silken clouds seen often in paintings..

As the earth shakes beneath those feet once more

Those eyes, they search for a lighthouse, the silver lining.