The Monster

The Monster

When did I merit your ire?
Do I look the monster? Am I the beast?
Will your dark view of me ever tire?

I’m daily met with your glares of fire,
Has the horrid green of my eyes ceased?
When did I merit your ire?

Did the dark memories end? Am I still the liar?
In place of wretched silence, give me peace,
Will your dark view of me ever tire?

Is the feud worth friendship? Is it so dire?
I asked your pardon every way known, searched from west to east,
When did I merit your ire?

Our bond as friends could not have been higher,
Now all I wish of your memory is to be released,
Will your dark view of me ever tire?

Sorrow, regret, throw me onto the pyre,
Of all of my worries, my end is the least,
When did I merit your ire?
Will your dark view of me ever tire?