The ungrateful plate, of
food to be. The strength,
lacking, hateful of this, I
see clearly. The shameful
madness, as you call to her,
pleading, for the sapping, of
your spirit, exhausted, to end.
Had you foreseen, her dreadful
will, no doubt, as it grows within
you. None can be pleased, yet still
we foster, a living, a life, he, the imposter.

Hard to breathe, no
where to turn. You live,
still, the pain of her burn.
I can only watch, friend,
there is nought I can do.
Yet, still, I ponder, the cause.
The ruthless lies of unforgiving
******. You turn to me for
guidance, mistake, perhaps,
your life the remittance? Friend,
for your sake, I ask forgiveness.

Out of sync, when all is
mine. Unforgiving, is the
power of time. She asks of
he, plainly, will it end? The
sadness, of the unknown.
Her, inability, he, so willingly,
sought the gladness, of she.
Can we all not share, the same
despair, of lovers who dare, to
undo the unfair? No. Happiness,
only burdens the few. I envy you.

Chasing, out of reach,
the pleasure you seek.
I ponder, could it be, my
technique? Greatness, our
aim, failure, to live amongst
those, who toil, in shame. Yet,
perhaps it is we, who dread
her challenge, the untamed.
Drive, to her chamber, feel
her unmask, her revenge,
impale, on your passion.

The guilt from the grasp,
we should not desire. You
think I can’t see, smiles of
glee, kindle the fire. Though
you may be quick, it is I, who
must quit. Worry, you may, try,
to remain, composed, the dire
grows. Will you see through,
now, my struggle, the casual
pose. Perhaps it is I, who must
learn, life, the inevitable yearn.