Tell me a Riddle...

That I would not know.

Tell me, is a Riddle all it seems?

Is it a Riddle in itself with many different means?

Tell me a Riddle...

That is witty and fun

Will it be one that I will not solve?

Look at the sun

What do you see?

Is it not a mystery?

With many a History?

The way it revolves with many a spheres

Is it a Riddle that contains all fears?

Or like broken glass with many sharp shears?

Tell me a Riddle...

What will it be?

You are a boy I will never figure out

Of that there is no doubt.

With your hair untamed and eyes like fire

While mine are full of seeping desire.

With your lithe build and hasty attire.

So tell me a Riddle...

That I will not solve

But tell me this..

Will you save me one last sweet kiss?

Or a smile that I will not forget?

Or perhaps a hug that I will remember...

On this cold lonely December.

Like a window in space

I see you...sitting on a windowsill...

So out of place.

You look so sad, lonely, and cold.

I wonder...

Will you ever look happy and bold?

Then you look up...

Straight at me.

You reach out as if to pull me in...

But you can't because I don't belong.

You look like you have been waiting.

For so long...

But I do not belong...

I wish I did

But I do not

Am I even the girl that you so sought?

Was all your dreaming all for nought?

You're losing a battle that you so well fought.

I wish I could just appear right next to you

Where we could both look at the Moon.

But I can't.

So you'll keep on hating.

Is it too late to pull you back?

So tell me a Riddle

So everlasting

Like a Speller with a casting.

I won't stop but I will keep going.

Living, knowing

That I will find solace

Knowing that you are just around the corner...

I look down at my work,

With my quill in hand.

There is a notebook

With two pictures

Facing each other

One is a Riddle that I will never solve

And the other is words

Flowing over the paper like sands through the hourglass

I reluctantly put down my quill

But not before I sneak one last look at those eyes.

I fear I will loose myself in them.

I take my hand and give it kiss

And press it gently against the paper.

Then I promise that I will visit again.

Would it be so bad to loose myself in those depressing eyes?