On Tuesday evenings I go to the chapel I stand and sing and I miss you I gaze upon the moon that seeps through the glass window- And ponder upon my existence. Your tidal hair pulls back your lashes- but you are shadowed cornered by enigma. I don’t know you- not really my thoughts tug you into the mystery of the night sitting you in the far pews of the chapel I can’t see you- no, but time is non-existent somehow I think you have stolen it This was meant to be me moving on Meeting new people- shaking hands and painting faces across my own But I still see you I feel you Ah, what a torment Why you? Why have you done this to me? Heart? Why have you betrayed me. I stand here, on the stage perplexed as you seep into my thoughts Whilst I fade into the mystery of the night somehow becoming it—to myself