Incongruence in the shade of flesh.

A tall, slender figure walks in the shadow of what used to be mine.
The turret of my entire sentiment is burned down as you embody your love for her.

A great tumult erupts within me as you say her name.
Its said with such concord,
I can hardly stand to see your eyes illuminate with affection
as you utter the syllables that mean nothing to me,
yet they shake the status of my entire being.

The fierce endeavor at which my only intention is;
to make you see that I have invariably waited for you
to the return to what once gave us both meaning to the words you and me.

My only dream is to return to the time when;
the one who occupied your silhouette was I.
. . .