The world is a mirror
If you love it
You will receive love

But you must start at your mirror
If you love yourself
You will receive your love

I don't always love the world
Perhaps it doesn't always love me
But what I give I receive

I don't always love my reflection
It certainly despises me
But sometimes we get along rather nicely

I am trying to love the world
Ceaselessly
As it grows to love me
For we are one in the same

I am trying to love my reflection
Relentlessly
And it grows to love me
For we are one in the same.

.
I see her beautiful shape
laying still and quiet in our bed,
sleeping form curled around the pillow
on which I left my scent.
But I am a self made Ghost
and I saw her cry all day.
I am a shadow and feel nothing
and I left her because I loved her.

So I died,
by my own hands,
maybe soon,
she will understand.

I never deserved her, she deserved more,
so I showed myself to the leaving door.
Inside the darkness had begun to call,
step over the edge and start to fall.

Bereft of life, she found my shell,
screamed at me from the depths of Hell.
Tears streamed in gushing torrent
expressing a grief I did not warrant.

So in the ether I pen this note,
words can no longer leave my throat.
I left my love to set her free,
I couldn't keep her bound to me.

And whilst she gazes at my picture on the shelf,
may the Universe bless her not to blame herself.


© Pagan Paul (18/08/17)