Just Maybe

I build an imagination from your love, sweetheart Maybe two days from today I'll be in for a sick bay Struggling to get my breath sustain me at least a day, To see you again. Just maybe an hour to that last breath You will disown me with a rapturous vivace And see me as a side voice Never to hold you to the skies. Love you always admit you have a niché in your soul For the years we've shared, haven't I filled it? Nor do the cymbals I play don't tinkle? For it will be a cave in the heart! Just maybe the many vows, wishes and promises Were all but just fake understanding of love, Maybe a schism of hatred is inbred in our souls To make us part forever. And the imaginations of a sacred altar In the middle of exchanging rings I fall an die: will you still be under my shadows? Or you will gladly move on? Just maybe the memories will fade away Or the times we spent together build a tale in your walls Or the circuses you love blind you: Never to reminisce about this poor lover here? In the innate imagination, dearest love, I see us falling down the crest Deep to the lying carcasses awaiting us And it's just a fainting vision... Maybe all my letters to you bleached, The soothing verses erased in your memory Just maybe...maybe we're aliens To this world of mortals. But love, my imagination is based on worries: Not of a foreshadow nor a prophecy, But for a painful revelation: You will never read nor understand this! © Borusei Kipkirui