This is the story of a truly evil man
He does not remember who he is
or the twisted things he did in the past.  
He lives a life unencumbered with regret, or guilt.
Free to move forward in the world.  
A ship suddenly at full sail with no anchor.
Just brightness and possibility
and speed from the lightness of a bleach spotless soul.
Then one day a sickening spark is ignited.  
Like a flash going off
gives a brief glimpse of things that wait in the dark.  
Soon the occasional flash becomes a strobe light.  
All his actions from the past coming flickering back into view.  
Like a madman running at you from across a field.
The strobe always blinking.  
What will he do when the madman gets to him,
becomes him,
reclaims him,
is him
again?

None have ever loved except you and me
We live alone atop this mountain
We see those in the valley
All convinced they are on high
But we alone have that view
And when they truly see our love
They are laid bare
Like a child suddenly aware that Santa is not real
What they believed to be true was a lie
Their love will never feel right again
Always feel lacking
Less
Inferior
We have ended so much lesser love
Simply by allowing them to see our love
True love
The love of poets and madmen
The love unreachable
It is unreachable because it is ours
Not theirs
We occupy this perch
together as one

like the lion became the house cat
and the wolf became the poodle
*** has been domesticated
it has been made small and controllable
your desires have been selectively bred
down to acceptable sizes
nothing too grand
or over the top
stray too far from the center
and they will
castrate you in the press

At the crack of dawn
The day already lay broke
I rummaged through its pockets
Hoping to find more time
But they were empty
As empty as the promises
Of love you once told to me