from him...

Never lament on lost love,
my ally of the pen.
We no longer live in shame
on expression and
expression is our submission.
There's never a wasted ink
on poetry,
(my ally of the pen).
Your fantasy to taste the urgency
drove the sanity for
illusions. What you wrote
is also alive, breathing of
truth from fiction
It is a manic madness
to be seen as a fool.
The way you call it a talent
of sucking dry the
juices of glorified passion.