There are no angels here

There are no angels here

 

Irony, thou art rife

Words oft spilled from tongue

Not always so devastatingly true

I thought myself the joker

But…

That doubt, thoroughly fixed

Pragmatism can be devoid of compassion

The mind is it’s own place

Can make a heaven of hell

Or a hell of heaven

Eternal doubt, pre-conditioned

To doubt own mind

 

My own avoidant nature

Mirrored in boundary set

Most precious obsession

Reflected manyfold

Increasingly inflamed impatience…

 

And did I not begin this with music

Ignorant, at first, of public pressure this would put upon him

My wrongs are many

Such ridiculous levels of synchronicity

Thought previously as signs of fate, magic and love

What love have we shown each other

I have been his worst nightmare, and he mine

Driven equally mad?

 

I am truly sorry for the explosion

Though apologies are as dust

I crossed a line, caused indiscriminate destruction

 

Have we been but ships passing in darkness

For my own sanity I must let go

I pray he is able to do the same

If we are both but twisted mirrors

Then he craves peace as much as I

 

It is when least deserving of compassion

That we need it most

Most treasured value

Compassion

Regretfully, Shamefully so

 

Morph

 

 

Taking a break

but will be back

never a ghost again

Done