–A Weekly Chronicle Series
Oh love why art thou so elusive?
They said you are expensive but even if you were cheap,
I still couldn’t afford your caprices.
The ambit of your given pain is too heavy, I couldn’t go on.
My hope for you is dwindling like the last snowcap on an early spring.
Even so, to wait for you is a big amiss, I would be just tired.
Coming further late is befuddling my weary heart.
So here comes my impassive mask, my defense against sadness.
I can’t feel anything anymore.
Stoic I am. Stoic I will be.
Some short ruminations here.