"How do you know it's the end?"
She asks me through her tears.
It draws me back into the darkness,
Where I was faced blindly with my fears.
The scratching of heads;
The whimpers of voices;
The constant inconvenience;
And hobston's choices.

What kept me in that consistent loop?
Was it really comfort?
And what made me oblivious to your warped mind,
That did not value me or my effort?
The hatred, oh it's real!
But my heart somehow still broke.
You took with you more than our lifetime,
When you opened your mouth and spoke.

A new path was constructed.
And our moments slipped away.
Your absence became less obvious,
With the passing of every day.
But within me, past all my minds thoughts,
There is a feeling hidden deep down inside.
It dents my negativity and forgives all my regrets,
And it's the single reason I cried.

Because inside you, I seen potential,
For you to be loving, kind and true.
A man who could put others before himself,
My life partner, who would help me through.
And the darkness created that image.
Without light, I was blind.
I could not see your true colours,
Or the mask you hid behind.

Sometimes you allowed the light in,
And your beauty was something real.
You were more than that potential man,
And no hatred did I feel.

We had a future, though you did not believe it.
But that faded away with you.
I think it was all just for the better,
As your last words were the most true.

And now I'm standing before my reflection,
Asking myself how you know it's the end, for real?
And the answer is simple when you look at your surrounding,
Only to find, silence is all you really feel..

Glory is the indefinable
Often untouchable, presence of God
Laid upon those who have
Reined in freedom, lost suffering; for
You can only reflect what you look at.

Melancholic soul
born from
comparison of superficial beauty
from the society.
Made her sing melancholic songs
and howl at the stars at night; crying and wishing she could
be Aphrodite.

Liar.
The word men used
to describe pretty woman
with art on her face.
He loved her face
but not her heart
which is also an art.

Now he's full of rage
when she wiped the art
from her face.

For it should be beautiful
and admired
because she's naked; vulnerable
not despised.

She loved her art
for that is her nature
and men, remember to
See the art on her heart too.