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Rated: · Poetry · Emotional · #1247017
How far a womans love will go
She clings to him as the day fades silently
Relinquishing its delicate futile hold
On the cold, harsh, dying world
Night explodes violently into being to take day's place
And without mercy it calls all life
Into its gaze of hatred and despair
And even the dark one she holds to her heart
Is tortured by night's star-pale eyes

And still she clings to him, lovingly
He is strong and dark, beaten and bright
Broken by the swift change of life and death
Yet glowing with the last hopeful rays of sunlight
He is battered more with each moment of lifes pain
And his heart grows cold and impenetable
And as he stands with lowered head
He never sees nor cares that she is there

And still she clings to him, hopefully
Her hands are clasped before her in prayer
Sending her never-ending hope to the stars
And even as she prays, her arms enfold him
And her brilliant gaze never leaves his face
Hers is a soul that has shed all her hopes
And all the feeble light she possesses
To weave him a bright and noble cloak

And still she clings to him, desperately
Though he sheds and discards the cloak of her light
And forgets it was ever there, she stays
Her unwaving eyes wrap him in protective crystal
To save him from his owndark fears
But he shatters the crystal with onecold glance
And though she cannot pretend she does not see this
She strives to shield him once again

And still she clings to him, painfully
Her heart throbs with his every tear
His pain becomes her eternal anguish
And his indifference is a poison to her soul
Her death comes to her every night with a thought of him
Whispering promises of rest and release
Yet she is betrayed to the morning sun every day
And rebirth tortures her with the desperate need for him

And still she clings to him, eternally
Though she is tortured by knowing there is no life with him
That he cannot and will not acknowledge her existence
Still she stays by his side
The fibers of her very soul are knotted to him
They vibrate with the rhythm of his breathing
And the evershifting shades of his voice
But does not know or does not care

And still she clings to him, in death
He is beaten more with every passing hour
By the savagry of the sun, the violence of life
The pain numbs his soul, almost to the point of madness
Until finally, his heart despairs
And his life abandons the rough shell of his body
And she is forced to watch him die, then dies with him
Clinging to a man who will not and cannot love her
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1247017-This-Is-Love