Love's Mystery
You started like a pin prick to my heart,
an intravenous bloodline to remorse-
Drowning in starvation, I played a part,
my heart and mind on a parallel course.
There’s a bed to be made and one to sleep,
you chose which one fate has given with ease-
A bag of silver for lies that I keep,
my veins wither as my pleasure does cease.
One thousand wars, two thousand more to come,
change comes regular like goodbye seasons-
Complicated and jaded I feel numb,
disappointment comes with all your reasons.
Love’s mystery has become like cancer-
an enigma of faith...needing answers.
March 21, 2018
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