Lost Boy

He walks alone the lamplit streets of destiny untaken
with lips moving silently against the chilling rain.
His blue eyes two pools of rippling thoughts unspoken,
evenings vapors seduce him with her image once again.

Desolate in heart and soul he wanders aimlessly
with shuffling feet back to familiar ground.
Behind stome mask his rage screams silently;
raindrops hitting pavement night's only sounds.

Like mist from breath she fades to ghostly nothingness
as stringless puppets in glowing windows dance monotony.
"Only angels and saint's have time for lover's foolishness."
he sneers while tears of rain beat in rhythmic disharmony.

In weakness his loins hunger for passions gate once more.
"Fuck it!" hastily flicking cigarette to the gutter.
Pulling close his overcoat walks hollow steps to his door.
It's more than midnight's chill that makes him shudder.

                the violet-eyed witch