Love: 1998 - 2016 (Part V: Repentance)

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

Oh, Lady; I believed, and so oft’ swore

My passion, like the stars, would never cool –

Thy heart held in mine, forever adored.

Alas, love, once more, has proved me a fool.

These words have grown repetitive; complaints

Monotonous – despite intention pure –

And fervor neglected has finally waned,

For you could not be mine as I was yours.

The offense lies tattooed upon my soul –

Indelible, and irredeemable –

As life, it seems, demands a monstrous toll;

Leaving voice censured, and mind unstable.

   I do at last repent that affection;

   Praying some power will grant redemption.

She Didn't Love Me the Way I Loved Her

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

She didn’t love me the way I loved her;

That truth is as simple as it is stark.

Yet, this acceptance can’t spark will censured,

Nor provide solace to my broken heart.

An ecstasy birthed at first sight was marred –

Devotion became steeped in a cauldron

Of pain – tortured by eyes ‘twould shame mere stars.

Deceived, desire led too near those suns,

And as passion soared, sanity melted;

Burned away in fires of apathy.

Still, madness can’t erase the fondness felt

While affection lives on in memory.

   Respect oft’ spoils through indifference,

   But, what’s pure won’t dim to maleficence.

No Good Deed

By Bud Koenemund

For T.

I never kept my attraction secret,

Rather, regard was too often laid bare.

Yet, I gave comfort, asking no credit,

And thy judgment censured a soul who cared.

Your rebuke, undeserv’d, cut deeply –

A jagged edge drawn, and kindness repaid

With crimson rivers – the wounds still seeping

As you reappeared, once more seeking aid.

How should I answer thee? Open my heart

To thy pleas despite these scars I carry;

When what remains is but the worser part

Of me, and better nature lies buried?

   Charity strives ‘gainst a spirit vanquished;

   For no good deed, they say, goes unpunished.