A man once said, against his will,
that love has many names.
A woman nearby scoffed but, still,
She writhed within its flames.
Her cries kept him awake at night,
He could not close his ears.
Resistance waned, and all his might,
Could not allay the fears.
He called on favored demons,
Change is torture, all the same.
He called on angels, without reason,
Begging each by name.
It was, at once, surprise to none,
He kept the worst inside.
Surprise to all when it was done,
Her violent suicide.
read here by the author:
https://soundcloud.com/warmphase/circumstances-as-they-are
Some hastily improvised verse. I hate regular meter and rhyme, but this was a challenge to write something quickly, all at once, and use both. Written over maybe a twenty minute period, though the final stanza was added a day later to wrap it up with something horrible. JUST changed the gender pronoun in final line on a whim. Don't know why, it just makes it more interesting, I think. Yes?
Premise: Those who most vehemently fight the madness of love are often the most deeply and sincerely affected by it.