Harsh, knotted thoughts
serve as your cloak,
barely draping shoulders
and a heart as hard as oak;
soft, sensuous wishes,
but you can’t revoke,
far too many times now,
aspiration makes you choke.

Half-hearted tears
try to compel remorse,
transparent motives,
yet still you stay the course;
attempt to breakdown
an all consuming force;
forget the facts,
I always knew the source.

Don’t cry to me,
when your sun wont shine.
I never was the one
to turn your water into wine.
You want miracles?
I’ll lend you mine.
Though your selfishness,
was always well defined.

You never have
tried to walk away,
been far too hard,
to end the games you play;
the good you had,
fell into deep decay;
I’m feeling nothing now,
what more is there to say?

by  :    Glasyabolas