And instead of quenching,
the apotheosis of my thirst.
This loving heart upon witness,
chooses to fallen and to burst.
So much as there I stand,
and watch you as you leave.
With someone else's hand,
tugging onto your sleeve.
Unaware of the messes,
that remain on the web you have weaved.
Unaware of the jealousy,
that taints me as you leave.
Unaware of the breakage,
of the pieces of my heart.
Because the way you look at her,
tears my insides apart.
Unaware of the bloody mess,
I have been destined to paint.
For I am in hold of no purity,
as compared to a holy saint.
Unaware of the constant ripping,
of my crumbling, my worn seams.
As I succumb to the breadth,
of my wholly unreal dreams.
Unaware of the madness,
that you have brought to expose.
For you have led me to show,
the absolute depths of my woes.
And my fair begotten,
I was made only for you.
But me, you have forgotten,
for you wanted only her due.
So you left me here,
drowning in my own tears.
And you have confirmed,
my worst of fears.
So you left me here,
trying to get all my bears.
Whilst the angel of death,
thanks the devil as he nears.
YOU ARE READING
Poesy of Eloquence
Poetry❝ this tragedy is soaked with tears that dry the ink in my hands. ❞ ━ the poesy I've yearned to release ever since I taught myself to pick up the pen and write. ❝ for if the painting of my words be the garden upon the gate of heaven, glimpse them...
