Your love is pain and pain is a plague, a wasting disease that rots from within.
An affliction unleashed, a virulent scourge that pillages, ransacking where it has been.
It infiltrates softly, a surreptitious blight, slipping past sentries, sentinels disarmed. Until the recesses of the soul take light, and tremors of fever leave me disformed.
Your toxic affection, a pandemic unchecked, metastasizes swiftly through my seared veins. Lesions burst pustulent, defenses derelict, as agony's contagion abolishes all refrains.
Love was the harbinger borne on your breath,
exhaling promise amid roseate runes.
But that sweet zephyr only flirted with death for pain was the pathogen carried in its croons. Now I writhe, systems revolting, betrayed by the intimacies that opened me wide.
What blissful entry points those kisses made for this quarantine of torment now exercised.
Your love is pain and pain a ruthless curse, each caress its own inescapable blight.
I'm dying from the inside of your worst disease fatally consumed by this plagued lover's plight.
YOU ARE READING
Penny for a Poem
PoésieI just write what I see in others or feel, leave your thoughts. If you have any feelings you'd like me to write out lemme know
