By Avery Robertson

Love seems not to
have found a friend
in me, no matter
how vainly I try.

Those days are long past,
along with visions
of kisses and
soft smiles
in the flickering candlelight,
that once would vibrate
inside my head.

I must cry,
if I don't, then
my heavy heart will
surely burst,
that small, poor
doomed fragile thing.

I had never known
anything in the world,
like my wanting you.
Now I only know the
worst of us, like
a spear through my heart,
a thorny crown cutting my brow.

No more light shines in my eyes,
all that has departed, and
all my dreams are now
untouched and put away,
cast into a dark dungeon;
all because I believed
in the touch on my flesh,
the burn of you
inside me,
that taste.

My muse is vapor, and
my fate is sealed,
only you can unbind me,
set me free, or let the
emotions of sweetness,
flow once again,
like raging rivers
in the wilderness.

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