The Knife That Killed Me
Curse you, curse you forgiving and patient heart
you would receive a thousand papercuts
before admitting a person's fault
I don't know why
Why are you so dead-set on letting me embrace, witness
the brutally honest elegantness dwelling inside...her, Anastasia
Why do you keep her tangled within
intermingling hues of my personality
Why can't you aid in my campaign to let her go
(sigh) I forfeit, I just want to let her go
let her go and recover, forget this dreadful haze
...I love her...no, we've been through this before
It just couldn't be, just leave me to believe in the folly
I realize I was willing to fight for her but I'd fight for anyone
I just didn't expect her to leave
I guess someone had to if I wouldn't
Yes, I was willing to fight but my prize
a thousand reasons to wave the white flag of surrender
I've seen all of this before but I swallow the pain down every time
like people in the circus swallow swords
It's written down in ancient history
I was taken down by the knife which killed me
In the face of truth, I denied fate to forge my own broadsword
which took off the head of the wielder (sigh) me
I kept our union alive long enough for her to stab me
and return to her king, her petty reasons I'll never grasp
but I despise them both for implanting this time bomb inside me
or was it really the seed of jealousy sprouting dangerously
I lied, claimed the feeling comfortable
while simultaneously because the spawn of the demon of anger
relatively close to the fate of Nero, part of the bloodline of Rome
To all these demanding questions, I don't know is your fatal answer
Curse you heart, why do you find joy in aiding the enemy
in slowly worming it's way back into me
I honestly thought, believed I banished her...
although I kept the door open in hopes of her return...
but she only came in to steal you again
On her way out, a punch she threw my way
and I stood there, a statue, still in sheer defiance
taking the force
and I stood still in a quiet storm
between enraged and hopeless
The tears raining down from the thunderstorm of my eyes
made me aware; I'm still me somewhere below the surface
...so why do I sit here in silence...
...feeling like I'm nothing...nothing...
...nothing at...all...
Copyright © Andrus Cassian | Year Posted 2016
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