Work of devils be but brief
When they do be in my thoughts
But hours as such be still
Excruciatingly bitter bought
For mine hither they into
My hearts most inner core
Reflections be diffracted as pass
They do through their fell hands
Thence my mind crawls and begs
Release from this wont to reprieve
Yet stay they may for scarred be the heart
And need is it of time for heal
Bit by bit with a bit it so shall mend
Till but a breath of it shall remain
Still your memories remain hereto ever
Clawing at your betrayal of my love
Did I not care of you enough?
For thy liking, I ask but of you
Was it but a fault of mine that made this
Harsh veracities come to pass?
Else was it but a fell thought as such I have
About me, else was it but another man?
Know I not what wrong I did to ask
Of you for its mend and excuse
Thus raise I not such a request to you
To absolve nor of you to resolve
But few words of parting I have for you
Love is still in my breath for thee
Save for this I have but past memories
Which with each breath shall be but waste
Therein forget I may you a little and hurt
Will wash away till it be but an itch that stays
G.J.
I say good job cause I'm no good at writing poems.
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