Devotion

If this is love then it is either a torture or a pleasure one moment it is one another moment the other In which cruel fate should decide we need to be together yet accept on condition that one is better-meant and in the weapon of tears inside emotion are smiling eyes within devotion And I another are we one-another and you say I I am your lover But as you lay in my arms such tenderness a torture and as I rest in your thighs such taking is its own pleasure and where then do we find in you in me somewhere between some kind of measure Between some kind of wrong or right a distraction from intensity a subtraction from reality Remain calm these collected pieces of sanity in your arms such fate so cruel to be where I am meant to be and be driven by what ever you want this to be Is it in finding the opposite world to sin