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Poem

Once upon a midnight
At a fireplace in my old home,
I read onto a paper, my knees on wood.
It was a letter,
My good will's final tome.
Sobbing and shivering through my hood,
I had been wounding what was good,
I soiled the happy weather.
To guard a forbidden secret,
To keep my love not freed,
My oath to loving greed.
And in another dark night,
A few days after that midnight,
It had come to my confined attention,
A loss that I couldn't hide any longer.
And he had found the existence
Of my now hidden letter.
It was an order,
An invitation to something greater,
Sent by the higher ups in his ladder.
They called him for work.
They wanted the being that I loved,
That I wished upon,
That I held myself,
That I kept close by.
Love was never fair, regardless the chances.
Whatever the dice rolled into,
I kept denying that I'd ever lose him.
But alas he had found,
Snatched the parchment from my hands.
As his eyes traced the markings of words,
He'd glance at me, from time to time.
Before he could cut the silence,
I did first,
"It isn't fair!"
Why couldn't anything be fair?
I knew he'd choose the glory light over me.
I shouldn't have kept us in delusion,
But it wasn't just me in that illusion.
Is it wrong all along?
It doesn't feel like living
To hide my reasoning,
And it never felt good
Because the truth felt like an affair.
It was suicide,
It was torture,
But we used to be happy.
Yet, I destroyed something precious,
I threw a bomb upon our glass dome.
And the smoke from it's shattered explosion,
This anger,
It's fading the loving haze.
And I know,
I just know,
That my musing in prison,
This lonely illusion I called endearing.
I know it's come,
Like a beast at me,
To come and end me.

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