Written while listening to Bon Ivers' For Emma, Forever Ago
I'd imagine it with a similar tune：


Great Delusion

By：Yisselakh

Verse 1：

I tried standing in the rain
Like an indie movie scene
Even cliches have their meaning
As the film grain begins melting
Did you also think
Sink in that wishful thinking
Our great delusion

Chorus 1：

That if things had been
What they could have been
We would have been
Ceaselessly happy
Happy
Happy

Verse 2：

Now think
What would we have been
Seeking
If that mundane
Had been the state of things

Bridge:

Would you think
Would you think
Would you think
Then

Chorus 2：

That if things hadn't been
What they would have been
We would have been
Boundlessly Happy
Happy
Happy


CODA：

That's our Great Delusion
So probably it's better to let it be
That regret silently gnawing
Let's not rush back in
Shattering that good old dream
And leave us nothing
Nothing
Nothing
But the Great Numbing
Of the loss of wishful thinking

That we could have been
Happy, happy, happy

Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play
In the fields of the village.
Morning’s far away.

Still crisp air holds its breath
In silence as we watch
Moonlit shadows creeping west,
Forever out of reach.

We try to chase the shadows
Running through the trees,
Standing tall like rocket ships
Against the lonely seas.

Come along and run with me,
The fields await our gaze.
There lay mysteries to be seen
Beyond the twilight haze.

We’ll chase our noble destiny
Into the howling storm
And catch those fleeting shadows,
Running with open arms.

We’ve stayed in this tiny village
Longer than we aught.
The world awaits, bold and bright
Even if we’re caught.

It’s time to make our journey
To lands far and wide.
I’d rather face the future
With you by my side.

Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play.
Time to forge our future,
In the streets with me today.

Don’t worry, I turned off my heart.
I disconnected its valves and
tapped my foot to its last beat.
I repainted the walls of its chambers
a nice neutral color that would
really brighten up the space.
No trace of love.
No trail of grief.
You wouldn’t even be able to tell
that it belonged to someone else.
I spackled the holes left behind,
plastered its cracks, sanded its nicks.
Refinished the worn floors where
too many games have been played.
With any luck, interested buyers
won’t look too closely.
“This one’s got some good bones,”
they’ll say, and marvel at its potential.
I marvel at its potential.
For now though, I’ll turn it off.
I’ll turn it off, if only for me.

relax.
not-within me to compose 14 poems
about anyone, but do not test me,
for if there was such a person,
it  would  be  
                            Timothy

now, not my place to over praise,
for this man hews his own road
among the thickets that separate
humans from each other, and let us
not forget, those thickest thickets
tween a man
                             and his God

he writes in a style imitative, of
some noteworthy bards, with
whom you might have some
passing Renaissance and Elizabethan
familiarity, the thought of which
attempting to do, frightens me to
                              my very soul, scored

but what ails me that this-dialogue,
tween an Englishman and a New Yorkah,
who have each a love of the commonality
of tongue, but with a perfume of idiom and
dictionary differentials, that just sweetens
each, my apple pie, and his, pie of,
                                mince

commenced in 2014, when he wrote to me with
insistence that I not throw in the proverbial
white towel of surrender, for my poetry seemed
to die on the vine, received with lemons and limes,
pleading with firm resistance to not give into
to this
                                impulse

so here we rest, with many details personal
exchanged, transversed over a great pond
dividing  and I permit myself to reveal
but this, he is a much, far better human than
I could even dream of becoming
                                being



so here we are, 11~12 years on,
and he likes my poems too oft,
calling them better than the daily,

I do not receive the daily, but daily
thank our common God for his existence,
and we share in unison a single word
                      
                                      amen.

Cupid - Where are you?
Did you vanish in the blue?
Did you forget your bow?
Cause my heart is too low.

The sleepless nights
The empty sights
All Those come
But the leave me dumb.

Why is that I fall in love,
But they do not,
Why do your arrows curve
When my love has made knot.

Is it that all hate me,
Or just try to break me,
For all I can see
Is nothing in this endless sea

Find me at least one
Someone as bright as the sun,
Someone that would understand
The weight in my hand