Heartlessness

Nothing waits to be roofed,
a leader of skills attempts
to warp my sentiments,
which I will crease into a solid luggage.

I'd grin at the moon sometimes,
though its luminous
never sheds a greeting
onto my vacant wishes.

For it took his mischievous heart
nothing
to sneak into these eyes held by me,
naturally- I please then
tickle to free all what I clash
to conceal.

Pleasure is the foremost to flee
and to banish the best,
(miserably ?)
I have forgotten
the disparity-however.

For I was wholly wrecked;
once.
No, no body had to
train me how to love...

Nothing waits to be roofed;
however I will crease each script
of joy
until heartlessness
turns to be my only truth.

by:Rani Moallem