How deceitful, profoundly so—
Such falsehood’s quiet, ghostly glow.
I saw your grief, your solid gloom,
A beast that howls through shattered room.
So humbly I begged to bear your pain,
To ease its weight, with no refrain.
Such falsehood—gentle the touch,
Yet beneath it foul as much.
I would have spoken—but you knew,
What so-called love when it’s untrue.
Take my soul please, take it, please,
Draw it from dull soundless seas;
And in your moor, so bleak and wide,
leave but one place, that I may bide.
Nov 7, 2025
Nov 7, 2025 at 4:18 AM UTC
How deceitful, profoundly so—
Such falsehood’s quiet, ghostly glow.
I saw your grief, your solid gloom,
A beast that howls through shattered room.
So humbly I begged to bear your pain,
To ease its weight, with no refrain.
Such falsehood—gentle the touch,
Yet beneath it foul as much.
I would have spoken—but you knew,
What so-called love when it’s untrue.
Take my soul please, take it, please,
Draw it from dull soundless seas;
And in your moor, so bleak and wide,
leave but one place, that I may bide.
Adrian
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