deepundergroundpoetry.com

Othello no more, arise Iago!

Is this what is life
That every day
Cuts me like a knife

To love an angel
But to have no love returned
Love unrequited
A Torture worse than any other
To be lost on such a vicious Sea
Of self-hatred and loathing for others
This is what has become of me

And I know she is gone
He who fulfills Cassio's role
Him, I shall not spake his name,
He has charmed her by means I never could
Really, I should happy for them, as if I could

My work is undone
I have no need for this life
People like me but do not love me
As if any girl could be my wife

I must be repulsive
Not just in my black haired face
Or my so exotic half-cast race
But in Soul, in Aura, in Spirit

An exile in my own country
A stanger to all those around
I pass on by without a sound
Poisoned by my own perceptions

Is this to be my life
Full of woe and strife

When I love not, chaos is come again
And I abandoned, drown in much pain
The Jewel richer than any tribe
Will not bless me with her presence
And is apathetic to all I scribe

For the world, for her, for all
I am no longer connected to
And thus, fated, do I now fall

Love, Valour, Nobility even Happiness are gone and I loathe them, but to no relief.
Written by Viddax (Lord Viddax)
Published
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