Into Devastation

the devotion I’ve shared for those in antiquity
has been angina stricken in its entirety.
for my heart is fickle and interest tiresome,

from mind to body, my eyes, they succumb.

alas, all criticism cannot sleep by my side
when the gracious host to my love is lackluster,
when the receiver of my poetry remains ignorant

when beauty is the only thing this form holds

I crave from the other what I pretend to give
as my attention is led astray by some other
and this other is a manifestation of my dreams
then choosing reality over said dream

I conjure my own path to devastation

Reviews

[Saraplenty]

I really like the honesty of this piece.