So little of this which I recently was
Playing a pretender, oh so little-known life.
When given to some rage and jealousy gave him cause
He woo'd his love-lost and a sprite, instead of his wife.
With failure and pretense as now his life rent.
What is a man without honesty? Nothing at all.
So studied he, how so much of time spent
Fell into another spell; drank deep the potion, bitter as gall.
Her claim of rejection, still he turned from that path
Confusion, exasperation, Guilt hung like lead weight.
Now scorned and rejected by these women of rath
What could such deception expect but this fate?
"Do you know why they trust you?", recent comment was made.
"Because you're honest and blunt. Whether your favor or fault."
To which I sink with loathing. Into self-derision I fade
I think of the testaments of love, turned to viscous assault.
Tears are no more
Love failed, becomes cruel
It's me I abhor
I clearly see me; the fool.
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