Fickle Love

What a tattered beaten fray you are
My dear so close and yet so far.
What cloak of blind self confidence?
What manner? What pretence?
Cherish you your sullen hope?
Your brow a blush to be.
A web of certain grasp.
You strike with fatal certainty.
Be kind to me when you mar my Hope
And kill and aim to strike.
For I can never be the one
To survive such a deprived Life.
Have you the mind to end me now-
With illusions of Happiness so fair?
For I find it hard to tread a step
For I was injured there.
I’ve seen your vengeful face you know
It’s seared in the spot that’s healing.
There kept untouched in Heart
I visit often the feeling.
When I kneel beside it scar
I shed a sigh for I know
That buried deep inside myself
The seeds your existence left grow.

by Tabitha Castillo

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