Untouched


Whose face is it that turned to grey
At the sound of those beautiful words?
Whose eyes were it that wept at the thought
Of a collection of lonely nights?
And so many still ahead
Where the stars that shine may find comfort in the moon’s presence
Yet a heart glowing with passion lies in a silent room
Counting the minutes that slowly pass by
Without ever feeling
Without ever loving
A dusk, never-ending, that dreams of dawn
Bleeding all its colours into one