Betrayed by love, I sip the bitter nectar you provide
Betrayed by love, I sip the bitter nectar you provide,
A chalice transfigured from black ink, your verse a river, infernal.
The burn grows in my throat, no choice do I have, I cannot flee,
Each gulp slowly tears from me a sigh, a prayer in a soft decree.
Do you watch as my dry lips trace the hourglass of pain,
Knowing you shall never taste this end of joy's wane?
For I cannot imprint, nor force into my palms the sorrow you've cast,
This vicious cocktail, of betrayals and venom, how bitterly you've amassed.
Your eyes laugh, witnessing the agony nest within me deep,
You think each sip a torment, but my heart whispers its keep:
"I love you, do not betray me, I shall not lose you, it can't be dire!"
My tongue is scorched, yet still I drink from that chalice of fire,
For I hold this mad faith that, despite it all, you would never truly disown.
The cup in your hand never empties, it's a wellspring of mists that moan,
I gaze at you through waves of tears, transient, paths on a map that bend and break.
Because my heart, deaf to the mind's hesitations,
Refuses to believe that this love is dead, that it's all just air and pretensions.
An echo, how our wings that have flown moment by moment have shattered,
In the spider's web of time, rings upon rings have been battered.
A canvas of melancholy unfolds, for love - a flame, a spectacle, a pyrotechnic blaze,
Fades in glances, something immovable, something immortal, akin to an offering's grace.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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