Like It's Not... Poem by Krupa ...

Like it’s not ink that I write with but blood,
Every dropp of which oozes out of my heart's flood,

Like it’s not the night so somber and dark,
But the shadow that my dreams mark,

Like it’s not the sun gazing with fury,
But a soul mourning its faded glory,

Like it’s not the breeze murmuring into the sea-shells,
But the silent whisper of wedding bells,

Like it’s not the declining dusk to dawn a tomorrow,
But the tale of an untold sorrow,

Like it’s not the tranquility of the moonlight serene,
But the silent demise of a cherished dream,

Like it’s not the waves that dance in moonlit shore,
But a throbbing pain that rekindles ever so fore,

Like it’s not the ocean so crystal clear,
But an embodiment of my every tear,

Like it’s not the rock so aloof and obstinate,
But your heart so hard to penetrate.