I rarely grasp the gist of your assertions, I never truly understand your law. You say you wish to chase away my dread, And yet, somehow, I am left dazed and raw By all the things you claim you never said. I mark the gaps that gather in your answers, The silences that blur what I have heard. You smile, and bid my troubled heart be still, Yet every kindness sharpens like a sword, And leaves me doubting what I cannot kill. And so, the storm clouds gather like a bane, My wounded soul cries out for retribution. The truth is always yours; you uttered nought, And I alone had stirred this revolution And made you pawn to my misguided thought. I loathe myself for caring once again, I loathe the mercy in your sapphire gaze, Yet kneel before the ruin I have made, And learn to hate the sweetness of your maze; Then curse the wound and damn the heart that stayed.
