Self-Control

I have a bad habit of being overtly complex at times for things that can be expressed in a quite simple tone. I feel being simple is a way of experts.
I am just in search of snatching the fun of living each moment of my so-simple life in an ingenious Utopia.

# A figment of space in the
northern corner of my heart
Encapsulates a void waiting to
be filled with the touch of her fingers,

# Applying the cream of love on the
soft-spot wounded by the perils of time ..
Lies an immense sense of desire
longing for her ephimeral presence.

# In lieu of my dreams, which betray
me so often, I get a glimpse of hers ..
A deep slumber feeds the hope of union
into a crave, and a crave into a reality.

# The belief, which I wish to nurture
unto death for the fruitfulness of my being ..
Someone somewhere is getting dressed
for a beginning till the last.
A tender phantom wanders in the shades
of my porch tampering with my garden of wits.

# Alas, I cannot touch her silky shadow
anymore for days to come.
The moon is stolen from my nights
with only the stars to show me light ..
A game destiny if ploying
stealing sleep from my sight!

Here, I try to regain my self-control over my identity which seem to wander forlorn, whimiscally addicted continuosly, in refuge of an imaginary companion.
The flight of fancy is a partake on the existential supremacy in one's irrationally moral justifications of being at risk to succumb to an evil within -> Love :)