The Deadening

Timid runs, fear hides. The cynic just sits there and smiles. Heart is wary of another tale, and love says it’s not for sale; Fantasy is born from the womb of desire. Will passion only find another liar? A kiss from pain is sorely sweet, content will surely fall to its feet. His story is sweetly sad, hers is raging mad. But still, they take each other hand in hand. Hope cannot help but shed a burning tear, although admiring, she knows what is near. Embrace every moment, that is all you can do, til they all come together to softly kill you. Confusion settles into its usual hiding place, while deception cannot hide its ugly face. Prepare yourself to bleed, cut yourself now and plant the seed. Tear open your own soul, bare your vulnerability. Be brave, deny this story its own lustful victory. If all your blood is gone before they can drink, how much can you save yourself, do you think? Parch every inch of your dying sanity. What an honest take of your own pathetic reality! 6th June 2007 JSL