I have forged my problems in cold grey steel,
unfeeling still, my reeling will.
Two to my mind:
One,
I hurt her...
and the other,
vice versa.
A forge full of regrets,
to temper my mind
with worry and upset.
Guilty for my mistakes,
problematic,
a blade I've made,
of panic.
Everything said
shimmers on the shining surface,
a reflective face,
that holds the feeling in place,
with a pommel of folly.
If I could,
I would take this weapon of regret,
that fooled you,
both, and steel myself.
Seppuku.