The Weed

He smiled as I breathed him in,
The breath that in my weakness won.
Why rest your soothes upon this skin,
O! sweet rain and summer sun?
For what has been is going, gone.

A soft approach, upon my chin,
held me still whilst I spun
Not knowing what would begin
With a blissful kiss, begun.
What had been was gone, far gone.

My blood learned of a bud within,
And warmed to tend the blossom
Too fast it grew, fed by a sin
Gorged deep into my bosom.
I myself was going, gone.

I dreamed a scent and felt a saccharine grin,
Awoke fondly to a jarring languid yawn,
And thirsted with a quenchless passion
blinded as I smoldered, to what would come anon
And I would soon be gone, far gone.

My body burned as it wore thin
As high I held the flame on, and on.
But vain like you had always been,
Sweet tender thoughts were soon foregone
And all I had was going, gone.

I watched her with her swollen grin,
The flowers dying as he fawned
I watched her as she breathed it in
With pain so dark I hid from dawn,
Everything was gone, far gone.

I regret wasted care to your weed inside, when
I gave time and love, long overgrown.
Brighter now, I refuse, I will not ever dim!
New dreams and scents I have of you, burning terribly alone.
And I’m so glad your gone, all gone.

The Weed

lovelytea

Joined April 2009

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