Images of you become increasingly distant,
memories are strange when you are a stranger.
Everything I was, I am now and will be,
is visited on me and threaded together,
ubiquitously from a different vantage point.
You were to me a ludicrous picture and desire,
but for those few precious fleeting moments I had it.
Hopes to live an idyll life was it an unrealistic ideal,
a dichotomy of separation from dreams and reality?
O God, give me back the day that was stolen from me.
I was confronted by something unutterable;
Your impassive nonchalance and idea of euphemism,
your perfunctory ridicule, it was all epiphany to me.
You ruptured a passage and through this imbroglio,
abandoned and left me stranded inside a no man's land.
All fear, uncertainty and despair dissolved;
This feeling embraces me, comforts me and opposes me.
It is determined to keep myself from existentialism,
from spending the remaining years of my life on life-support,
transfused against loneliness and only pretending to be alive.
-Mok