Whats the point if you are not here; it drives me insane because, My only wish is only to gaze at you one second after second, because if you are not here, I dont know what the hell my heart is doing beating, My mind tells me, A heart full of love, without an owner, is like a sky without stars, Whats the fucking point (TELL ME) Who would serve a life sentence to such easy get away crime as life? , who would work like slaves and live behind bars, who would withstand the shame of the dead outside your cell, their laughing at you, thats right at you, Well I like to think being is part of death.but being without you is part of hell, I want to know who made my paradise hell, Vampiric machines that we call hearts they manege to make you stand while helping you fall.

Hello death, I never expected you to be this beautiful, I said, I Never expected you to be this enthralled by just mere beauty little boy, said death. Hey Beauty does make a slave out of us all, in way or another, even if it is just to admire it, and I aint no boy, I replied, Boy get out my way said death hahhaha, only something as deadly as you could be that beautiful said I.

Romantics expect the worst from your Vampiric machines, Because hope comes in different sizes, Romance is imaginative but very impractical in most cases, A romance with death would make you no different from the rest, Just remember keep your eyes closed, and let the wind take you away while the coarse tides shows you that life lacks death as death lacks mercy, And it doesnt matter where you go, The secrets that you hold so very close are right there with you, and will never let you sleep the sleep of the unregretful.

Ismael (wish my name was Ishmael)

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-tragedy-of-ismael-the-prince-of-melancholy/