In The Lonely Hour Poem by George Tzouvaras

Progressively lost in your presence, I am left in the detail of your eyes, in that faint thin balance between the moment where I touch upon you, and the moment where I let you go of me.

The evening came, its summer, hot, almost hypnotizes me.....
There is no need for description.
Only the need to live.

The air whispers your presence and I love you again as damned.

In the absence of moment I will feel my desperation, and it is this desperation that makes me to feel more....not your absence but your poverty.....desire for the visible, appetence for the marvel of your love.

In this evening I will be lost in the hunting of your hope.
In this evening I will chase my love not as adventurer but as a desperate man.

There is a hope that I know. When I am alone I ll find you in the dark searching for me. You will find me in blood-stained lines that have been written for you.

I want you not as a desperate man. I want you so I can live.

Then will come the silence. I know it, I know....... it is cowardish and sneaky, it conquers you without to realize it.....alone therefore I will justify my existence with memento of my presence some certain foolish lines that speak for the despair, the love, the life, the way that I see people.....

The night came, the dogs bark their loneliness and I lick my wounds... as a loose dog, ill and misunderstood..... alone and in sometimes hurt, in some others just stoned by tiredness and in some others just peaceful by your love.

So I will weep but not with tears, I will smile again and again till I found you in a summer meadow and.....my weep wont be a sad one...will be full of smiles and moments awaiting to see you coming to me again...and a light blue hope that this time I wont have to let go of you.....till then I can only dream about the next time I ll see you.