Hear the stir of
an impatient
love atheist.

He once obtained
faith in lovers.
Until he broke
himself during 
his decent to
hellish waters.

It presented
itself proudly
in velvet-blue which
passed the offing.

There, lilt was gruff,
tortured, libelous.

Unexpected
was the fury
that he had felt.

-But he had known
that the feeling
was not fleeting.

For it was long
and grievously
strained. At present,
it seemed now as
ever, to him, this 

ephemeral
whisp of time
winked so quickly.

On his pillow,
his heavy head
now lies between
double questions:

if love is real
or if it is
a penumbra
lurking, taunting
in the deep night.