Anguish To The Kind Hearted Martyr
the blood moon harlequin nuzzled me in his warm embrace 'stop that unnecessary whimper tis the heart that us martyrs have been cursed with that condemns us to this life of servitude to kindness and compassion but to move foward is to truly embrace life for its gift of oxygen and romantic ideals'
as i cry in the embrace of the arms of the other half that has lifes anguish as of the anguish that i harbor in realitys harsh eyes
her anger blows into a sudden nerve racking silence for days to come.
with every bit of rage expressed by her is multiplied tenfold by depression and unnerving thoughts of living without her angelic embrace.