Sifting through the debris
Of a past, supposedly forgotten
Disturbed by the fathomably unseen
Disquieted by caterwauling visions

Losing all inspiration
Simply defeated by victory
Mocked by success
Of which is unexpectedly unwanted

All this time
What was thought to be sought
Was wholly misconstrued,
Revealing a frailty so foreign

Unheartfelt but requisite prostration
Ensuant to a new understanding
Leaving nothing but inglorious savvy
And putrefying promises

Cognizant of the idea
that love is not for everyone
Not because of the "falling in"
But more on "falling out"

Swearing yet again
Renouncing this formidable emotion
Knowing one day it will come back
And ultimately win again

For the hundreth time
As certain as day will come
This defeat will leave its mark
A cairn to something great wasted by characteristic human pride
Posted by yabs on January 28, 2008 at 02:56 PM | Comments

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