A Treacherous Thread
Our love—a tattered tapestry in twilight torn,
Blood-stained vows, I ne’er should have sworn.
Yet still, I grasp the ghost of hope long dead,
Whilst my heart lies trapped in love’s unraveling thread.
Our past—a patchwork of promises loosely sewn,
A mosaic of miseries, lies I shouldst have known.
Colors once radiant now washed and bled,
As sorrow’s heavy tears soak each tender thread.
Our vows—etched upon withered parchment thin,
Sealed my fate with sorrow’s sanguine pen.
With futile needle I sought to mend,
The pale, torn veil of love’s forsaken end.
Our souls—once spun upon seraphim loom,
Star-crossed lovers ‘neath empyrean moon.
As fate’s spindle spins tenebrous threads taut and thin,
O’ how I yearn to weave us whole again.
But thou—unwind the tethered twine,
That once bound thy haunted heart to mine.
Where art thou now my false Valentine?
Lost in the warp where truth and treachery entwine.
And though thou hast sundered our seams apart,
Thy name shall ever remain stitched in mine heart.
—Edward
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