To Chase Forgotten Dreams

I walked with you, only tonight, having lain upon your chest.
I quizzed, I questioned, I condemned, I hung
every last lie or tale you dare lead me along.
"I loved you then." you had said, as I stared you in the eye,
when I had seen you stand with her then, as I can see you now.
The same look you had glanced my way,
the look that screamed "I really like you."
"Liar."
I had said again, when told me, "But I loved you."
That was crap and you know it well,
you know those megrim of idolatry that you so dote upon
say nothing but "I am foolish." and "Liar."
I said that because I hurt.

"You seem contented with him."
Looks can be deceiving. I could've been,
perhaps if he were not to hurt me the same as you,
as he chases realizable dreams, while you chase fools gold.
Which one is more believable?
I love him. I think, but do I try
to keepsake what time we have upon a cloud
suspended with heavenly silk?
While each and every time you behold me,
you throw your gold at my forgotten dreams?
Your "charming" words, should pale, should blush,
at the sight of this, had come undressed
the sheep in wolf-skinned clothing.

I never actually moved on you know,
because there was nothing left to mourn.
The man I thought I loved once, gone,
and in his steadfast, in his hell-born fury
a Palladin emerges to save forgotten dreams,
bearing a spear to fend off the gold.