My love story is a trivia,
Saturating my dumped emotions,
Facilitating whimpering subjugation,
And potentially it is rather queer,
Emulsifying ranges of short stories,
My love was rather classic,
Fortifying lovely memories inside,
And putting hearts on edge,
Of the mystic dilemma and chaos,
But I still care for her tears,
Still think about her pain, weathering,
And in silence I still make my eyes wet,
Just because the sake of time I spend,
With you under the solitary compassion,
But now everything vanished, all it remains
Is just me and you, not us..

- The Daft Introvert