Disproportionate responses and torrid torment
Is all the calling of the time I am subjected to
Then again, what would a response be due emotion
Nothing less than the brutal redressal in cacophony
For the wrongs past, I could reason and defend
Yet neither stands ground when measured versus another heart
No undoing would be possible for the lost time I know
And here we are with the spoils of my love's war
A rebuttal of her cold shoulder would seem wrong
For I haven't forgotten the blood on my hands
And in the current mire due love's labour lost
I weep in the loneliness of my own being
Every moment I grimace at my own existence now
For I have given up on being alive somehow
The heart that used to be steady and bright
Has crumbled due display of despair of her brow
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