Beginning To End

In the beginning, every dawn was a flower in the breeze blowing
through our window, 
bringing pale pink petals, that tickled, to wake us, falling more and 
more into love
sometimes there were storms outside, but never 
within our house
we saw the pouring rain like tinsel, and pretended
it was Christmas
undoing each other with laughter, unwrapping each other, 
as our presents
if only there was no darkness to follow, the promised 
days of always
but long before the story should have ended, the shadow of unlove
entered the night
destiny was a sword in the hand of a soul stealing memory
of unfortunate history
wielding the rage of men, betrayed by faithless fathers, motivated 
by evil intent
with a face of Hell fire; as cold and devoid as an empty white moon
a demon personafied
He struck deep into the truest, heart, that would have gladly ceased to
beat before him
wounded by the breaking of the most sacred trust, choking on tears
and unwanted breath
there became the unblessed warrior, bearing the banner of all naive hope
for unhealed children

Crying, with my soul half taken,  by the devil in your eyes, and my broken

heart still bleeding
I was besieged by what had been enchanted, to deny murderous fate
victory over us
because monsters under your bed, went unbanished into your nightmare
of childhood days
My heart, it did forgive you, my life, to forget that moment, owning still
our precious past
all my soul, I would give, for your Father to have loved your Mother, in front of
your baby face
yet, while my battle has raged on in defense, of our once upon a picture, by any 
ways and means
you have admired yourself in the mirror of my affection and not returned with
like for like
even, in realisation, It’s hard to give in, to truth so tragically sad, that I rather 
would become you
would you then, become my rose, changing places and colors like a sunset, my
always beautiful love?
Who watches while I try to cast myself, like a sacrificial spell, that fails to 
return the magic
time tells the truth, whether or not I want to see it, and we are revealed; only
ashes not love
of all we were; what was taken and given, and given and taken, unrequitted;
done is done!


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