He chooses to drink the wine of her taste,
Mingled with a stranger presence.
Knowing it's every sip
Will burn him inside.
For now he only lives
To warm himself,
To hunt for her view.
He sits beside the fire, everyday.
The logs being a gift to him from his manly prey.
Being wrapped around the torn blanket
Revealing his shattered hopes of being with her.
Still holding hands of his miserable self.
He sings about her,
Looks up,
Sighs,
Smile,
For his seraphic moon shines for somebody else.
He shows,not to cry
For her moments of glee
Breaks him inside.
Forcing him to manage,
To laugh and giggle
And to greet farewell
To the lady he always called 'his.'
