What a terrible
fate it must be to love.
To look at another and feel indebted—
To lose rationality and sense from the irreverent frenzy of infatuation—
To have such devotion, such entrancement—
That locks you up in shackles—
And chains you to your post.
What a terrible,
terrible
fate it must be to hate.
A constant steam fueling the boiling red liquid fire in your cheeks, setting ablaze your thoughts,
Consuming you—
Devouring you—
Driving you.
What a terrible,
terrible,
terrible
fate it must be to have lost.
That void that bites out your heart in chunks,
Pulling it deep within itself.
The dark waters that beckon you under in
Melodic whispers of sweet lullabies.
Drowning you in your own, sorrowful abyss of melancholy heartbreak.
What a terrible,
terrible,
terrible,
terrible
fate it must me to love that who you hate, and avail only to lose him.
I can see his smile,
lost in the darkest of my memories.
I can hear his voice,
Whispering to me as I lay awake on sleepless nights.
I can feel his hands,
Captured in mine with a righteous kiss of unity.
I can't help but hate his legacy on my shredded heart.
I can't help but love it.
Is there any other proof that he was real?
What a beautiful
Fate it must be to love.
To clutch onto another, and know that while you're their,
The world is untouchable.
What a beautiful
Beautiful,
Fate it must be to hate.
To fuel your ongoings with a fire of passion impenetrable by all.
What a beautiful,
Beautiful,
Beautiful
Fate it must be to have lost.
Knowing the blissful agony of change and restructure,
Of perseverance and strength in individual will.
And oh my, my,
What a beautiful,
Beautiful,
Beautiful,
BEAUTIFUL,
Fate it must be to have lost the one you loved and hated.
It is a fate like no other,
To shy away from the best of your memories.
And I must say,
When I let them in,
I know his true meaning...
I suppose there is a thin line between love and hate.
Even more so,
I suppose it's better to have love and loss than to have never have loved at all.
YOU ARE READING
Deepest Afflictions to Random Speculations
PoésieSometimes We cry Sometimes We laugh Sometimes It's one of the same thing Warning: may contain strong language, adult themes, and an unnecessary amount of "extra".
