He knows she’s lied, he sees her soul,
And yet he can’t help love her still.
He wonders if this makes him weak.
If respect him she ever will?
His shattered consciousness unwhole,
‘Picks up the pieces, one by one.
All those truths he will never speak,
That will one day see him undone.
Oh she loves him, that much is clear,
But still paints a picture for him.
He don’t need change, he just wants her
To not keep things hidden ‘tween them.
And yet to tell of this brings fear…
He’s seen her rant, knows that she buys,
(As heart and soul and mind concur),
Belief to her very own lies.
She does not know he would forgive—
Even knows she will slip again…
But she is his reason to live,
So he won’t look to where she’s been.
It’s her nature that drew him close,
So how could he condemn her now?
The very love that they compose
Still so tethered to it somehow.
…And so he just paces the web,
His love, so pure, now hard to yield.
To give it, himself selling out,
To not, life alone surely sealed.
In every waning moments’ ebb,
His very integrity blurred;
All feelings for her still devout,
He utters not a flippin' word.
...How many hours of night or day
In those suspended pangs I lay,
I could not tell; I scarcely knew
If this were human breath I drew...