For "Her."
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever." - John Keats
I hold your memory against my will;
Sentiment which imperils sanity
When every thought and dream reminds me still
Of the fool who gave devotion blindly.
But, this world won’t stop for a broken heart.
Indifferent to pain, both moon and sun
Rise, shine, then retire without regard;
Beg heaven for pity, you’ll receive none.
These things I desire can never be
Real. Love, fidelity lasting past death –
Blessed by madness and muse – is fantasy;
Affection shrouded in the dragon’s breath.
Misery, it
seems, lives joy’s companion;
Torment entwined with beauty
and passion.
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