Precipitate

PRECIPITATE

They've no idea I can see them too
That I look at them and see right through
Would they lie if I asked or be so true?
Can a confession of love end one's blue?

Look upon a candle's glowing face
Sitting upon a table trimmed in lace
A figure staring into a mirror of grace
A broken heart could find new pace

Simple words for such complicated feeling
Would my eyes dash up to the ceiling?
Could this heart bear its healing?
Would nothing more come of kneeling?

Exhiliration opens a box sealed tight
Would it be evil of man taking flight?
Or could hope show its true might?
Answers to questions told in fading moonlight

-poet Darká