The love she gives, the grave I live, so much a
contradiction; bled dry, frying the earth, begging to live in pains—the party
of words, it never mattered, the green in a smile. I pledged eternity, I wedded
my sanity, so divorced from rationality.
But a rose to sleep with, a phantom to answer enchantment, a mean
nature, a core bent, so enthused to love you; never a notion, ever a mandate,
so arranged to fret you; a man dies so often, many ignore his dying, so amused
to explain it away; the father of the execution, the mother of the angelic, so
sold and crucified. By love an abstract verb, mental waves, love seems like a
breeze of misidentification; if wildness, those bane clouds, with fever falling
like feral winds. So uncured, measuring adoration, surroundings begging we
fail. No one fathoms, the light as it dances—feuding inside, bargaining
outside, trying a trade off with God; the last to see you, the first to lose
you, so threshed forever!
