The scourge of my kind!
Love, I scoff at the word,
What of it, I ask the people around me.
It is nothing, nothing but heightened lust!
But, let he among you who is free from sin,
Live in a glass house...
For I'm afraid, I, even I, the famed cynic...
Love. With a fierceness so bright, it burns.
And I must ask, is this just denial?
I have laughed before, at the soft looks,
The caresses, the face a couple shares.
Yet I long for it, with a deep yearning,
Desire the passionate caress of a trusted lover.
Alas, it was not meant for me,
Twas fated long ago, with the slam of a gavel.
Sorrow wreaks havoc within my twisted essence,
Driving me to madness, with it's shreaking for satisfaction.
Ironic, no? The cynic is unraveling,
The emotion she once scorned, ripping her to shreds.
And somewhere in this tragedy, I find myself laughing maniacally.
Author notes
Weird, man, weird.
First Reactions, please.
Comments
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wow
this is, amazing, i really dont even know what to say, i loved it, i can't even get over this right away, i need to sit here and reread it a few times, i love you, never stop writing
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Very neat. Deep, has an ancient feel to it. The deep rooted instinct for love, the need for it. What the lack thereof does to a person even if they thought they could do without it. I liked reading it. I could feel myself laughing at love and then being tormented by its presence. =]]]
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