A Mockery of Love
In my heart, I know I have made a mistake.
Yet the pain of reality does not sicken my mind into the fairest decision.
I am but without envy.
I am a coward, to seek not love but passion.
Truly in hopes of future love that one day true emotion will wither its source straight into my lover’s heart and for once he will look into my eyes and see himself, as he should; as my heart’s truest desire.
I am mistaken for a mistress and he for a companion.
I am lost within the meaning of this love.
Cruel, more so, the devil has had me covet more than I should ever ask for. Grieving, as I am, I am a shadow in his future, my definition blurred beyond a tale; never will I surface in the history of his years to come.
Time has seen me reduced to a past time and silenced to a mistress.
He leaves me without a promise of honor and an empty womb.
I look upon my predicament and wonder, how I made this mistake.
I have granted my heart to a mockery
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