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My heart shines like No other beacon. But as just, I Make my voyage alone. Mine own eyes judge, Biased and slanted, Beauty set upon a golden scepter. Alas, my poor heart’s Bereavement irradiates any Hope of love. If you move too fast, And fright will stopper Your wayward passion. Move too slow, And disinterest gives Blow for blow. My soul yearns For companionship: A coupling that will Unite my haste And my hesitation. Give time its course And flow with the Changes of the tide. This ebb of new ideas Charges me with an Air of hopelessness. Solitude coupled with My heart’s own depth Finds me confused And in despair. It is so much Simpler to hate than It is to love. Hatred Is blind and follows But one path. How I’ve grown weary Of the trudging I have encountered Along that disdainful, Unintelligible path. Love is a bouquet Of pleasantries Set a top a Venutian body. |
It incorporates Life’s many splintered Pains and triumphs. I search for that Indiscriminate passion. Hatred is blind And deaf to my Soul’s immaculate plea. This dead-eye beast Cannot learn this Basic equation. Why am I alone? Why do I hesitate? Why do I wish to push To the front? Where is the light To show my soul An untainted world? The breath of love Puffs itself within my lungs And provides me with life. The joys of childhood are Released inside my mind And I am intoxicated With the innocence and The love that is so common there. Hatred has blown me Off course and I know not what The concrete values are of What I desire to obtain. My family and my friends Present me with a puppet show Of what that should be. A fairy tell, methinks. Just the same it provides More answers than what I Thought I knew of before. What I desire is not something That can be shared within The confines of familial love. The itch that I must scratch Lies far deeper within my soul. The breath of life puffs Deep within my lungs, But yet I feel as if I will Suffocate if I ponder on This any longer. |
What is this binary force That pushes me to My threshold of pain and Beauty? My overwhelming Need to couple is More than I feel that I Can take. Yet I am Still here. My cup overflows with Generosity and compassion, Yet it runs empty when I Look to see whom it Is beside me. I see a Reflection of myself. That In itself keeps the blood Pumping through my Perceived masticated Veins. Yet it is not enough, Nor palatable to suit my Soul’s hunger. As I shed My skin and decapitate Myself with apathy, I am filled to the brim With anxiety. I run around my frantic Track, then I feel my Levels of normality Return to their rightful Marks. Exhaustion is the Bedfellow of my body’s Delight. It marks my ability To chide myself. It proves The theorem that I can Overcome. |