Onward

The word,
 spoken
Remains,
The rest
Is desire

The word meanders on.

Silence- My better half

Love dies,
Unbroken in mirth
Resurfaces again and
Finds us wanting

Love lost,
Secret meanderings,
Careless trails leading
To untouched pools.

Filth craves its better half,
For love without truth
Only filth remains.