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Again I sigh,

As the sun rises

Over the mountain.

A sigh of disgust,

And discontent.



Though,

Im sure it was

Full of color and beauty

All I saw was many shades of grey.



The lonly blade

Sitting purposefully

On my bed side table

Its sharp appeal and charm

Has never looked so friendly.



Love was once the blade

That now pertrudes from my heart

Now the blade has rusted and become hate

And so it stabs with bleeding sharp sarrow

As I remember the love that was not mine.



His heart was never mine,

And it never will be,

His heart is fickle,

And unfaithful.

And mine is black as pitch,

As loveless as obsidian among the stones.