The weakness in the currency of love
Even darkness cannot hide the truth,
Bartered, traded and exchanged,
A minor cut each time,
Till all is gone
Used upon
Consumed,
Yet a shell remains
A façade if you will,
The fakery of living
Leaves me withering
On the vine.
Am I going mad?
Have I become deranged?
What matter,
Who gives a whit
I will try to explain.
My mind seems intact
Never clearer.
I see my dissolution
Reflected in the mirror
Where once I saw my face
Looking suspisciously well
But I know inside
There is nothing but a shell
Bad things can happen and are done
In the name of love
Born of a capricious nature
I cannot do this again
But there is no magic cure
So I am drawn to the light
The light and the pain
