A Poem for True and Passionate Lovers

I feel misfortune, Temporary unhappiness, Full of motives and lacking such scorn, Not willing oneself to forget about what can’t otherwise be forgiven, At least you my dear are ever boring. What will end the perpetual tragedy of your blaze? Behind your mask is a layer of beauty, As stupid as it may sound I crave you, my ecstasy. As pitiful as I may be; misanthropy isn’t even on the cards. You can spread your venom all you desire, But I will exclude this notion and we’ll end this together. I seemed to of gone off the boil completely with my writing again. I'll never top The Guardian: The Icy Terrace, meh, anyway, let me know what you think and what not. :)