The Black Blade of Love
By Ian Stevens


Sorrow, denial, obsession, hatred,
trailing love's rejection so putrid.


The dark tear rolling down a face of stone,
your soul, once love and respect, now torn and alone.


Watching the tear fall, piercing through wind's rhyme,
and slicing multiple ripples into time.


Rupturing the water's calm and falling,
fading into it's crushing, dark oblivion.


The mind now silenced, dead as the grave,
no flames are burning, there's nothing to save.


All that is left are ashes, white as bone,
all dead and cold, so dark and lone.


The fog's intruding, nightmares ride the breeze,
now empty inside, no love to seize.


Darkness conquering over spirit and rapture,
all joy and happiness torchered and captured.


The love of your life pushed away,
only targeting your soul to slay.


When love gives rejection, pushes or shoves,
then comes the pain from the black blade of love.



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