The resounding clarity of botched attempts at love echo forever through the broken pieces of my barren heart.
And with fervent appeal they endeavor to dissuade any expendable fixture of that which has been torn apart.
Like a plot reminiscent of an old Englishman’s tragic tale where love is an intangible unseen force sought after by those of chance.
Whilst in the end all the players who perceived had won life’s honor of conquering love’s twisted fate fell prey to its drowning deceiving trance.
Now a past compilation of once distant hopes and dreams illuminates my recollection of learned despair.
As my soul now enters its’ stygian calling no longer aflame nor awaiting any chance of repair.
Like the rhythmic clapping of the ocean complimenting the land in an altogether harmonious yet tumultuous appreciation.
Another delirious mindset of unanticipated reason inhibits my newborn thoughts and pollutes my now distant expectation
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