Poem written about a lovers' quarrel for a contest |
The words we utter ring out cold and dank. The lies and lines we feed the other seep out, Expressions became corrupted, void and blank. Until we forget what this originally was about. The love was real, and the lure still does endure. For each other we gave everything, all our worth. But all our fears and insecurities made us unsure, And brought about our own hell on this very Earth. Your calculating voice, resonating all the cruel words. All the vicious attacks, and blatant degrading games. Our passion; cutting like the dull blade of old swords. All the blame, and the shame, and all the useless claims. The screams and pain, the howling in complete vain, The passion and anger overshadowing the truth well. Until your no longer sane; only feel the drain, the strain, And you swell and dwell, a hollow shell trapped in hell. And you fight through the tears and would trade any year, To return to the place where you both lacked this fate, hate. Where they were dear, it was clear, and the other was near. Back when it was great, not as of late, where all that was did so deflate. Back to before we hurt the other just to feel real, and conceal. Back to when it was only good, and we only did as we should. Back so we can heal. No more feeling surreal, another ordeal. Back when we could and would, do as we once so understood. 24 lines |