deepundergroundpoetry.com
Love is not Fair
I am blind in a world of sights,
Breathless on a bridge of sighs.
Life is pain; love is not fair.
Time never healed me, anyway.
Alone at the strange city gate,
Between odds of fate and chance,
I see a light that would not stay;
Tried to reach it but it fades away.
I feel as though I’ve met the end.
Dead while I live and breathe.
I’ve only watched as lovers leave;
Heard the death rattle in my sleep.
If I should leave and not return
Yours was the truth I hoped to learn.
And if I stay, I hope you’ll see
You always were the truth to me.
Life is pain; love is not fair,
I never found it anywhere.
But I would follow you to Hell.
Back again with a tale to tell.
I still love you as if there’s no-one else,
I still love you more than I love myself.
But in the morning I may be gone:
But I won't be moving on.
I cried as I walked away,
Without a word my heart could say.
I wished you well without goodbye.
In a blue and paper sky.
Everywhere it has been the same,
I have no home, no love; I’ve lost my name.
The bells are ringing in the sky,
Born alone and alone I’ll die.
© 2020 Marten Hoyle
Breathless on a bridge of sighs.
Life is pain; love is not fair.
Time never healed me, anyway.
Alone at the strange city gate,
Between odds of fate and chance,
I see a light that would not stay;
Tried to reach it but it fades away.
I feel as though I’ve met the end.
Dead while I live and breathe.
I’ve only watched as lovers leave;
Heard the death rattle in my sleep.
If I should leave and not return
Yours was the truth I hoped to learn.
And if I stay, I hope you’ll see
You always were the truth to me.
Life is pain; love is not fair,
I never found it anywhere.
But I would follow you to Hell.
Back again with a tale to tell.
I still love you as if there’s no-one else,
I still love you more than I love myself.
But in the morning I may be gone:
But I won't be moving on.
I cried as I walked away,
Without a word my heart could say.
I wished you well without goodbye.
In a blue and paper sky.
Everywhere it has been the same,
I have no home, no love; I’ve lost my name.
The bells are ringing in the sky,
Born alone and alone I’ll die.
© 2020 Marten Hoyle
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