To Love A Cynic

Lovers In The Fray – By Yours Truly.
It's a pity dear that I can't ever believe 

the love that drops from your misty 

gaze has ever really been sincere for me, 

aloof I walk the sands of armored beach,

with thoughts that segue from leery

trappings of a betrayed spirit

to isolated heart roaring ravenous screams.




Unfortunate am I that the scars I carry

burned through the skin,

now sitting inside the cage of my ribs,

feel tomb-like heavy,

sinking, eventually, all arks of fancy

you lovingly crafted to find the Atlantis,

now long dead, of my trustful being.





My Island of loneliness

that you set out to inhabit,

through oceans of faith, sailing

under a weather of pleasant beliefs

making vehement spiels

that you held power of my metamorphosis,

turned out to be a glacier hiding

your agonizing ruin beneath.





So now you're drowning

in tears that are bleeding

unseen by eyes of empathy,

as I stand on the shore watching skeptically,

watching you sink and waiting

for substantiation, for testimonies,

that yes, you really do feel

the way you say you do about me.













©EntangledDesigns

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