I am no vessel of boundless knowledge,
nor have I ever claimed to be.
But what I see is beauty, measureless,
wasting away in the chase.
It never ceases, she spends her days
shackled to her disease.
I am guilty, just as we all are, of my vices.
But this, it truly saddens me.

She reached out,
her hand mangled and twisted,
bones protruding,
fingers broken and bent.

Her voice rang,
throughout the heavens,
radiant sound,
disrupting the gods in their thrones.

She pointed at me, with a torn finger, and spoke,
"They are all just the same, so reel them in."

I once held the world in my palms,
but it fell right through my fingertips.
And as it slipped, so did my sanity.
I sought refuge somewhere distant,
somewhere that, to this day, I don't know.
I had to leave but there was something there,
something holding me back.
Something beautiful, something real.
Something that I am not.
My God, what have I found?

I came upon a woman,
knelt in the clearing of a forest.
Her features were worn
and the way she moved
made her limbs seem heavy.

"Rest your mind, child," she said,
"One day, all will be vibrant for you,
and all will be bright."
She gazed at me with sunken eyes
that radiated beauty unseen before.

I asked her gently,
"How can you say such things,
when you yourself seem to be distraught?"
She replied, "In one's misery
is where they will find true contentment."

You came to me in shambles,
and I came to you on time.
I loved you in your very worst
and adored you at your prime.
I lost myself along the way
and now I pay the price.
I was never one for feeling things,
so numbness will suffice.

I fed a newly-lit flame once.
The heat dispersed and the flames
all seemed to multiply.
They grew and grew until
they became a part of me.

I fed an ever-burning fire once.
I always felt it. Burning, shining
for the world to see.
That fire was real, it was strong,
but it began to dwindle.

And now I feed these smoldering ashes.
They no longer glow, but if you were
to touch them, they would singe you.

She came at night,
with her ghostly charm.
She explained to me
that she meant no harm.
She sat next to me,
said she wanted to talk.
So I held her hand,
her skin like chalk.
She said she was sorry
for what she'd done,
that all she wanted
was to have some fun.
And when I asked
what I meant to her,
she refused to answer
since she knew it would hurt.
She told me to stop,
that she'll never come back.
I told her I wouldn't
and to cut me some slack.
I asked her who she was
and if it was really that bad.
She said, "I am the lover
you thought you had."