“It’s not like it used to be… You can’t mess around anymore.”
I hadn’t composed it in such a way,
Of what his intentions had led to be when he had spoken.
Was it fair play?
Merely a temperate rustle that sprouted a smile in flowering fields?
Or had he been wielding something beneath his skin that crept closer to the known.
For I had been alone in his presence,
My consolation ran like waves to the shore,
And I knew I could surely trust him.
For the words that rolled from his tongue were nothing more than the truth,
He would dare not to tatter our youth enclosed within stone walls.
She was blind,
Every hint and slight bend of the finger she turned her head to.
For I have spoken the truth to her and nothing more,
But still, she persists not to restore her integrity,
Diving into our bond as if a cormorant in the early morn.
I couldn’t stray any longer,
My indulgence in others has been deemed as criminal,
The traditional flick of the knife,
The strife between two battling humans,
I had herded them like cattle,
Diverted them to their very own demise.
Yet she shall refuse,
Dismissing the stated with her shield of wood that began to fray and splinter.
For it shall cave in eventually,
And she shall see the blood staining my hands.