This Masquerade

The absent hemisphere of my soul, I discovered, is you. Isolated no longer, scars dissolved and tribulations ceased.  Drawing me into your arms with a warm comforting demeanor in your eyes and those soft beautiful words that flowed endlessly from your lips. Your hands, how they would delicately brush against my cheek drawing the outline of my jaw down to my chin. Exhausted from my pilgrimage I laid my weary head on your shoulder. I am home.
            You promised forever, I believed. You withdrew the dagger that another planted so deeply into my heart, only to supersede it with your own. My gaze drawn down where I witness a lance protruding from my chest. Blood slowly dripping down the handle, down to where I see your hands gripping the other end. Gazing back upwards into those once welcoming eyes now have a cold, distant estranged glare. With fleeting existence my eyes question your pretext. Unprepared even still you delivered a second, third and fourth blow. Each jerk produced another colic exhale of air from my cold trembling lips. The infliction of your treachery leaves me motionless, perplexed and hollow.
              My lips once plump and luscious are now parched and cadaverous. My throat once portrayed vivacious euphoria now too dehydrated to form words. My universe now frayed and frozen from the moment you inflicted this misery.