Have you fallen in love?
Not yet.
Well you can’t then write.
But sure, I will.
For mine is a song of sorrow,
Not sung but heard,
From a beloved,
Shattered by the same venom.
Evil it sounds,
The word to itself,
Yet venom is nothing but,
An essential in excess.
I saw her leave my side,
With cheers and joy of a new face,
Immersed in the love of that face,
And I saw the pallor set in.
Confused, much befuddled,
She recognized a tranquillity that grew,
Mistook it for a calming of her storms,
While ties were cut and ties were made.
She took in the venom,
Knowing it was so,
And as she kept saying,
That venom felt sweet.
Romantic yet toxic,
Sounds all the fairy-tales,
But for sure your Prince Charming,
Will not leave you poisoned!
Day after day,
Words went in vain,
The sweetness of the venom,
Overpowered my honey.
He joked,
She cried,
With tears not from laughter,
But bleeding from her hurt heart.
Intoxicated, hardly breathing,
It was for me now,
To instil breath,
Into those choked lungs.
Little by little,
I had her back,
Drowned in the remorse,
Of not discerning verity.
You blame him?
Not once.
For the mistake was mine,
Never knew the venom in my veins blinding my brains.
Melancholia?
What for?
She has survived,
So will you.
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