The Death of Love - Part One

A poem .......The Death of Love

It was premeditated murder. The stake perched upon the Death of Love.

It was the beginning and the middle and the end of Love.

It is in the grip of darkness, we look to the skies above. There the stars shine overhead - saying, "Give me your soul for the dead." "It will be raised up to another life instead." "Yes! To another Death of Love!"

Bury me with my poems, so that when I reach the other side, I can write about what it feels like to die and other things, to cross the pearly gates, fanned by angels wings

No one tries to warn you about these things: the hurt, the pain, the damnablex lies. But for me, it was your eyes, oh! How they hypnotized. What is now, what was then and what should never be again. And I think, I will never live to trace your shadow softly. To pine after Love, what an absurdity!

And I listened quietly, as you played your song and I thought our love would last forever, but I was wrong. But we loved with a love that was much more than love, a desperation.....begotten of a phantom.

We are among the dead and dying.
We hang our heads down and we were crying.
There is no hope of faith, we have quit trying.
It is true, we have worked at this so long.
My foolish and garish pride, caused me to do you wrong. A never ending search for a truth not told. Look at my eyes, you can see the lies, like snakes coming out from them...but take my hand, I know you'll never find, another one quite like mine. You are all alone in your misery, but you could have been deceived. You know that words are the hardest things to believe. Do you know the misery, in the wicked world you fear? Once you taste my poison lips of infamy....the ghosts of your soul will reappear. As you are now, once was I, as I am now, so you must be,

Bury me with my broken heart on a pedestal of unrealized and damaged dreams. When I reach the other side, perhaps I will understand what you seem to mean. Your acceptable level of cruelty, where the things you never did seem more real than what happened. We have much ahead of us, this Death of Love, how long must it be? It will play itself over and over, me the Amateur and you the man with the sexy lure of words, like swords that pierced my soul. The "Death of Love " was not my goal.

Bury me, for I have taken all I could.
Bury me, I am hopeless and misunderstood.
Bury me while listening to my final scream.
Then will fall the blade of the trusty guillotine.

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Key Words : Death, Love, Bury

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I wrote this poem as an adaptive solution for my relationship failures., envisioning forms of reconciliation,