Tragic Beauty


Tragic Beauty





Love. Love was running in my veins.
I had stolen a stone of joy from the everlasting fire.
I was happy and so was she...

... but her warmth crept away, or I turned over.

In the morning I forgot the feeling of her face
and left to search for it in darker places.
I found tragedy.

It held my gaze--
would not let go.
No respite for aching souls,
no cure for this stare...
... but I found a way to be happy,
and that scares me.

I was frozen by its dance.
How it masqueraded in the dark,
singing that sickly song.
When I looked I lost myself
and the loneliness faded.
I forgot her love and ceased to be.

A levee broke, an empty heart, black.
A shriveled mess,
servant of desire,
caught in the passionless stare of this
so called beauty.

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