Oh, and I didn't write this one, my best non-Kret friend did after reading the bits and pieces I have done of this story. Her name is Lynette.
Into the silence of the night
I feel my passion take flight.
And yet you remain calm, cool, and serene
Holding back, so subtle it can't be seen.
But I know you all to well,
I sense you'll be holding back the swell.
You used to hold me close and tight.
It felt so perfect; it felt so right.
But now you seem passive and distant,
When we embrace, your touch is resistant.
As I see you fade into memory,
Our together is but a tragic story.
As I look into the liquid reflection,
If I could only wash away undo detection.
My being is but a continous infection,
Doomed to nothing but eternal rejection.