A searing obsession, compressed to fit within a grey reality
Programed for today, you hoped for a tomorrow of infinite possibilities
We were tossed about by the fury of passion when it was already too late
Your face in a store window, in a pool of rain, in a final backward glance
While I remember tears of hunger, wept in my arms
Crying as if in primitive panic for an almost unbearable need.
I supressed my fleeting indifference as a squeamish trifle.
The ghost of your pain haunts me
Your accusing voice calls out from my dreams
Trust, truth, loyalty, respect, compassion, love
Run like shadows, crashing out of my crushed solitude.
Too late
No prayer, no hope, no act of will
Can release this squalid treachery from my trampled and broken honour.
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