THE LONGING
THE LONGONG
Why has thou cursed me with this longing for love. I don't want it anymore. I'm old and tired, I can no longer sire. What the hell is this longing for?
I lie to my self at every days end. I tell myself, I'd make do with some friends. I fight with the might of a thousand men, to never feel the longing again.
I still can't help my pitiful self, the longing still taunts me from a old dusty shelf. But as I sit writing down this notion, I've not been under any love potion.
Suddenly I'm compelled to see, a moment of bitter clarity. I don't need anybody to love, but I want someone to love me.
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