I should read your last letter again
to unlock the gates and comprehend.
It’s been hell to know letting go
is the only way to save my soul.
I couldn’t ignore you if I tried.
Memories are weight that can mean too much
as we fall victim to faces we touch.
This love is scorned like a woman,
and hell hath no fury
like the insidious nature
of violin sweet memories
that became the paradigm
of fire lilies and treachery.
My good intentions were poisoned,
caught in the tendrils of temptation
deep in the clutches of a mastermind.
The trees have been changing,
hues of my life again rearranging...
It’s all I can do to keep moving on,
I pray like hell to the statue of capture.
Wanderlust and drinking with strangers
can not distract me from your rapture.
