Reflections #6 - Serial Victim

The Pen is a paradox

I love the way I write

But it’s a struggle sometimes

When dark overpowers light

I curse this fluid Pen

I curse this aching heart

I curse the grand words

A victim from the start

Oh what a folly it is to love

Who knew it gave so much pain

And yet I keep revisiting it

And get hurt again and again

And I write, oh so much I write

An outlet for the tear drops

Did I say an outlet? No, never.

The hurt never dulls nor stops.

I could cut myself a thousand cuts

And let them all heal

But what do you say to something

Dying inside but won’t finish the kill

And so a serial victim

Who revisits the scene of the crime?

Covered from head to foot

Soaked in failed love’s filth and grime

Fate and myself combine

To deprive for the sake of art

It was never a choice, I shout it out

That it came at the cost of a broken heart!

And I still walk on and on

And I still hurt more and more

I’ll keep on writing of doomed love

Until I pass through death’s door.