On Love

In whose sighs did I lose my breath?
Moon lost, who did it want to hold in it's arms?
Arms that were designated a bearer and an owner even before genesis
Creation; eyes which claimed the rest of the existence is useless
It is useless for me to lament over passion
It acknowledged me as it's god
A god who created a paradigm,
a standard to conjoin towards the end
A demise: just another direction
Direction: a path that led to an aim
Aim; that was lost in it's own way
This way, must have been addictive
Addiction still holds charm somewhere
A place were we lived in the other's breath!