Trust, the rarest gift of souls-
How can I wrap it once again?
The paper taped and stretched too thin,
Full of tears and revealing holes...

You can't regift this twice, you see?
Trust once earned, abused, declines
The novelty that stood, resigns,
Distrust alone now hinders me.

But what first caused this change in me?
What once was lost to be regifted -
Privilege earned so easily lifted -
And defines the devil - what could it be?

The lastly words that Caesar spoke
(That William wrote so elegantly)
Now stabs my mind consequently-
Betrayal and distrust are now evoked.

Betrayal which started as a lie
To hide and bury a wrongful act
Broke the very soulful pact-
The rarest gift now left awry!

My dearest K tears expressed;
As browning flowers' dews depart
Their hopeless drops of life apart
On nature's bitter bed of rest

The sight of her in me compelled
Tears myself too hard to keep,
My every instinct fought the weep
Her every sadness my eyes spelled.

But even fire has its beauty
When taking life to fuel its own-
My lovely K, this goddess disowned
Of joys, replaced by mere cruelty-

The tears did but stain the face-
The one by which my silent quest
Would be a vain, unyielding test
Would I fail to lift her grace,

The prettiest face that ever blessed
My sight, my gentle mortal eyes;
They could not know a nobler prize
Than to see her grief at rest.

Withered thirsting dying petals-
Their plant's pain, who could guess?
The petals fell to gentle rest
Upon this earth for final settle.

Time for them a place has made
Where their essence intact remains
A place that just a mind attains-
Into that time a mind invades.

So, yes, those thirsting petals dried
But yet their color and smell preserved
And by the mind remained conserved
Even after those petals died.

-An American love poem

Love had come, we waited by
We both followed as couples should
He led us as we knew he would
But to where we wondered, and why.

I knew already how we’d travel
Although this time the path was new
And bumps along the road were few
Though each a fresh alert unravelled.

And when we started to depart
For Love was moving far and fast
We knew not if we’d even last
But I held her hand, we wouldn’t part.

We stopped and breathed, heavy breaths
Enough of this we had for now
This hasty course would not allow
The two of us, it’d be our deaths.

By the hand I took her swift,
Told her we had another choice
One in which we could rejoice
And leave to Love a modest thrift.

The choice to stop and take our time
And let Love further into perdition
We’d make new paths of our rendition
And try to get it right this time.

She agreed though not for Love
Who too quick was out of sight
She looked me with those eyes so bright
She was my gift from up above.

Though Love proved to be a coward
We instead made something real
The truth of loving became revealed
Leaving us, ourselves empowered.

When many days had passed, whence memories blurred with time
And in secret banks were stored, but left unguarded since their prime,
A photo whose fresh recall did unwanted thoughts evoke
Whose owner couldn't but lapse and yet-untapped sorrow provoke.
As if by divine scheme derived or as the Fates would have it designed,
The sickened world he saw with all its lust and love deprived
The illness was their absence, and the world he madly cursed
For its fate and his aligned, conspired and scheme rehearsed.
A more sorrowful realization into those memory banks recessed,
Such thought-provoking power there couldn't another photo possess
But how perfect that this one should a saddest thought impart
To whom unwelcomed gifts as such affected more the heart.

Disbelief was all I had for her
When naked she stood a beauty, and still-
Not for her body - God's perfect will
But rather for her, her amorous endeavor.

"No feelings" was all she said to me
That our venture be, in this night's contract-
We owned each other but remained intact
For we had a lease rather, in Love's property.

Yet, we kissed as lovers, a deed so real
Enough for her, for the void of passion
And she went weak; I was quick to fasten-
But this is not love, just touch and feel.

Ah, God, what then of me for her
When we are alone and all is done?
And traces of then, I'd find none
And traces of her? Again? Never?

She lied there breathless almost, blushed and bare,
For whom a statue I was, designed to stare
At those light eyes, pale skin, golden hair
Speechless I was, wanting much to declare.
Yet I, though mere, to this goddess aspired
I took by cunning theft her soft breaths with Love's fires
That burned and took her air, yet fueled newer desires
And incited pleasure, till she from passion retired
And not immortal time or anything heaven sent
Could some guilt evoke in me, or cause me to repent
Of my lustful theft, for which my deity gave consent
Lying there so calmed of a passion fueled and spent!