Love, Forgive Me
I did what I did. Projection is the murderer of all things genuine. I, for years, dreamed and toiled with secret thoughts of what love is and was to be. Small smiles went unnoticed as this boy dreamed away of future days. Moments past in a bleary pit against my deepest dreary. I could see them all there, in places longing for a home here in the world. The price of their admittance was the clarity of reality. Emotions colored the sky and breathed the light of starlit life warming the night. I knew deep in the chasms of my soul the things I saw were not of my world. All deranged images whose lust was hidden from sight. Not even mine own eyes could see them in the mirror for they had stolen those too. I was lost and I did what I did. We were never, and in all those years of yearning for us to be a truth—I killed that which was you. I, a villain, stole trust and twisted lies onto you. I was a wicked fool. It was not you that rushed in, but I that burst out through the gates of mine heart. I lead astray by demons disguised as doves of hope and I became death murder masquerading as love—Oh! Love, why must you have two sides one so full of joy men like me know nothing of and then be a black vindictive hatred on the dark side of a twilight's moon. And with dusk comes what I know to be true; that in the end I truly never loved you. So, forgive me and my words for these are the only truth I give thee and they will hold till death do us part.
Forgive me, Love