Love,
The powerful emotion that evokes fantasies
is but
a nightmare which eventually grabs you;
a utility
which your Love merely uses
to mould you
as she sees fit,
into a pained creature
emotionless,
and then draw out conclusions
to paint
that this was an inherent monstrosity...
Hate.

 

 


Verse in a pattern. There are three poems (I use the word very flexibly!) in this. Taken from this place here, where I write.

 

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