I grieve deeply for the loss of love,
as I choose to be alone.
Self-sacrifice I know something of,
as my heart hardens to stone.
I am tired of being misused,
that is beyond my control.
When offered friendship I have refused,
for friendship carves up my soul.
To passion I opened up my heart,
a burden too much to bear.
I knew better than this from the start,
now I have hatred to spare.
You see misery is my own fault,
myself is the only one I blame.
My entire world came to a halt,
women are always the same.
To be honest the problem is me,
terribly twisted and flawed.
I view myself pathetically,
Prevention of passion is the key,
to the chains holding my Beast.
Dispassion will prevent misery,
keeping me from pain at least.
I shall retire from writing verse,
at least I will for awhile.
I will return to living my curse,
then plaster on a fake smile.
Shall I indulge in flights of fancy hampered by clipped wings?