Desolation Row
On desolation row I stand before you,
confessing my love that was once true.
But no longer,
as the headsman’s axe falls,
my thoughts rolling,
never finding peace in these dark,
despair pits of angst.
Seek as I must,
to find another,
that’s not you.
Tendrils of tawny loathing divide,
fall upon my deepest, untold thoughts.
My lips once sealed,
never revealing the candor,
that I must spill upon you.
Dear bunny,
it has come to me with great sorrow,
that I must share with you.
A desire for the separation of this entanglement,
a split from the cold, harsh love,
that you seldomely provide.
I can no longer linger,
hanging on the fragile threads,
of your fickle love.
So dependent are you on reason with contradiction,
I do not know my true self.
The dark shadows from our past,
ever so loaming upon our prevailing, next steps.
There is no fate,
in the path we take.
I try as I must,
to provide you with a life of joy, meaning, and love.
But no longer can I stand with you,
as I need another to lean upon.