For the Amusement of Probably Timeless Love
As the wind churns out
Its part of the song,
Her deadpan face glooms in the street light
For a thoughtless gimmick to perform.
There might be some chances
Of our eye-contacts,
But her mummified gigs
Are veraciously lost in the sentence.
I am losing it all
In the battle of hearts;
My continuous rage has come out in poetry
To breathe life to instil love in intervals!