LOVE_AND HATE_ Lyle Ashwyn Holland (22-JUNE-1989 / RIVERLEA, JOHANNESBERG, South Africa)
'The Scorn Of Revenge'
I feel a strain in my heart,
The pain of your love...
Left my life torn apart.
Like a warn out, Tire...
Burned by a woman's scorn.
The fire, has the wrath of hell...
They say Conquer your fears.
This is, a story... I was scared to tell...
For moons I reminisce,
Keeping the coal lit.
And with every spark,
It reminds me of the times I miss...
So I seize the lighter from your fingertips.
Torched in the flames,
Scorched by the pain,
Lost and insane,
From the lava falling down my brain.
It was over due. For us to be done with,
Told me it was over, but I never believed a word.
Trusted, you to be the one. Coz you were the one..
I stuck with. Through the hardships...
A lot of nonsense I put up with,
For nothing and...
How could you not understand,
I'm not the dumbest or the smartest man.
They say success is the best revenge.
But I never had successful plans.
It was my moment of stupidity that engined this...
But you fueled it and burned me as your nemesis...
A scar that constantly drove us apart,
You enraged my wisdom with foolishness.
And my brain was temporarily in a state of mass confusion that bruised and cracked my heart.
Forever, stained with your name...
Tattooed next your every mark.
How do I get rid of this insecurity and let go...
You've totally corrupted and infused my soul...
Shivering amongst the creatures of the dark.
But most importantly where do I start?
Drinking from steamy drops.
Coz your kisses are still really hot.
The weight doesn't get any lighter,
I see the light being drained...
So I grip even tighter,
As My skin clings from the strain...
Put my fears aside,
But More insecurity builds behind the shame.
I keep my tears inside,
My Bottled emotions could set fire to the rain.
Yet I say thanks,
You've shown me my enemies apart from my friends.
So its sad that we had to end,
We could of lasted longer and came out stronger.
So next time we meet, we'll have a better chance...
I guess we both guilty,
A 3rd degree sentence,
An ultimate infinity amount of melted flesh,
by the endless cycle of hurt that still smells so fresh.
So ashamed that we Can't stand the stench.
Forgot about love,
Our own selfish Prides
we tried to avenge.
Hence, The Scorn Of Revenge...
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Hurting each other, instead of protecting one another.
Comments about this poem ('The Scorn Of Revenge' by LOVE_AND HATE_ Lyle Ashwyn Holland )
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