Poetry
An Ode to Lost Love.
Kash Baloch·September 17, 2008·Original
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You think you've met the one, only to realize, you took your eyes off of the prize. Defeated and done as you awaken from your stupor, the hypnosis subsides, leaving you alone with all the lies. She said she loved you, but alas, the truth comes out. She churns and twists in her attempts to conceal it, yet she spews it from her mouth. The love she claimed to feel crumbles to the floor, making you feel like you'd solely been her whore. You went through the motions, until it was routine. Desolate and isolated, you begin to feel the grief. Sorrow and remorse seep in through the wounds on my skin. The physical ones you caused me to create, reflecting on the love you easily turned into hate. I stare at them now, and see I've been defiled. I'm dirty, covered in sin but I can't stop my suffering. I've said my mea culpas, begged for my redemption; asked God to spare me from loving another, whilst I pray for my exemption.. My blackened heart hoped that you were the sun to my moon, that we'd balance each other out, morning, night and noon. However, your disdainful ways have me questioning my own sanity; my sense of judgement. I was clearly wrong to assume you were my true, perfect match. Devastatingly incorrect to think that this would last.

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