Inability

Emotions fall to meaningless cliché attempting to unravel lover’s mind, and plummeting through endless fields of grey though vibrant you, poetic threads unwind. Obstructed by the trials two lives have brought, the beauty seeks its eloquent release; expression, though we surely have been taught, will fail when all poetic urges cease. The promise made, ensuring we survive stirs not the timeless scribble of the pen, though every small betrayal so alive does beckon me to empty page again. The passionate alone can drive the quill; as such, it seems my pain is stronger still.