Noises of our past

For a reason,
I do not look back
when I hear noises of our past
(what's the point in wasting thoughts
over a false reflection.)

I wish I could manipulate destiny
and
walk with you into the valley of love
(somewhere in between the mountains of
flowers and thorns
hidden in the moonlight),
but our fingers never interlocked to give birth
to something beautiful
and we didn't get a chance to listen to the
unheard music of our feelings.

On cloud nine
you crowned as a queen,
and I started dissolving in the
nights of this filthy city.
Eventually, the pictures of sentiment disappeared
from each other's eyes.

Let me go...
I have found a monster in my soul
desperate to sink
in the river of damnation.