It’s been thousand years in a clumsy meander
Questioning questions without any answer.
Being a genius; I must find solution,
Why my heart is inside her pollution.
She is a true radioactive source,
Flaring up the dark essence of my soul’s.
I approached the fact that I am affected;
Telling her within all the rules respected:
Please, my pureness, I implore!
You and I are a wondrous lore!
Please, my wonder, I do not lie!
Even to your father I’d give a try!
Please, my goodness, you turn me out good!
Say I’m in your friendzone. Say the sooth!
She won’t say that ever, neither the sooth,
But I feel our souls harmoniously smooth.
In doubt, smoothness is just a bunch of spikes,
Causing me pain pain and thousand whys.
Why she lives so pure, why I do,
Why she doesn’t see me as I do.
Even my own existence had been to fool,
If I was worth life at least as a tool.
She warned me, not to write to her-
I liked it as a masochist the dolour.
I applied the warning of my mistress,
Knowing that I deserve only pain and stress.
Then, when I saw her, I turned my head,
She’s better to see me arrogant than sad.
In a sudden, I found a blossom without sense,
She was in need of my soul’s dark essence.
I kept sharing, being happy,
For I can make her happy.
I’ve become a bee, steady,
Letting my flower to study.
We’ve been experiencing well,
Being together, fearing hell.
However, the problem is still active,
I can’t stop thinking of my radioactive.
I feel my dark essence shouldn’t be dark,
I feel her brightness needs my art.
I’m not a choosy person, just a tool,
Neither am a player, just a fool.
Being less genius, I found no law for this,
I’m await for God may He will solve this.
Benyamin Bensalah
14.06.2017
