In a world so bare

In a world so bare of love and pure of pain… I watch as my heart floats like a dove and still in fear I remain. A dying cry as my heart falls deeper… yet the fear still haunts me. I awake to each new day with a smile. I look to my side to see… and my smile fades… for it was just a dream. She is not there to make the day perfect with just a kiss… to make the heavens shake as I stare in her eyes and tell of my love. And I remember all the pain… every time I hear any words of love I remember. How my heart was ripped from me and the still bleeding wound could be all but healed from her… yet my broken heart could be again sent into exile as time mends the shards and powdered fragments. I have never been shown love… for what I thought was someone’s love to me was nothing less then pain; a tormenting and vile bliss for the damned. With each passing thought she remains in my mind… with each passing tear I want her love. With each passing breath I question how long. With each pain I fear her. Never will this pain I have… the secret I bear so bitter that I shall take it to my earthly tomb and let it rest along with my troubled soul, be known to any mortal. God is my sheaperd and keeper. My watcher… the only being that shall know all of me. All of my pain and all of my love. But for this one gracious and wonderous bueaty. I do have love for… and that love grows with each passing beat of my heart. A great but fearful love. For how could she love me… upon the great spire she rests… treading on this scared earth is where I struggle. For the range seems infinite… or is it a false placed hope; a trap waiting to taint my blood with posion and that shall kill the last of my heart. My fear as grown with my love… a lie sickens my trust and feeds my fear. Let know lie be told… let know falseness be born… and let my love grow and endure and blossom. To its full extent only then can I show my true self can my walls fall. How many she has took down already even I do not know. That is why my fear is so great. How such a love and bloom… and such a fear can be born from that love… and the memories of pain. I sit and ponder as I have many times before about love… to leap or to run. To leap for such… not knowing the pain that may be bound to reach my heart… but for a chance to journy in her arms… a true lovers kiss. Given with my love. Returned with her love. To run… a safe escape with little pain… only the question of what if… what if it worked… what if I took the chance. For this has been a long pondered dicission but alas… even in the pondering I did step up to the edge and closer and closer I go. How far to the edge I do not know but… but then. All shall be told. When I look in her eyes… and she looks in mine. When I can let her see me for not who I was or my mask but whom life and everyone’s pain has forged me. All the lies… all the pain. But from this point all that sorrow could make me gain… or refrain. What shall happen I can say not. But I again give will to fate and love. For I have already done so even in pondering it. “I can not command my heart nor should I. For it commands my life and my destiny.” It almost seems a dream though something to good… to pure, to wanted to be true. I fear waking from it… I fear the dream ending. I fear maybe it is a dream that someone other then me dreams… and I am just caught in a blissful paradise. I know this bueaty is to great for me… but my heart does hold a love stonger then all spare one… and up the great cup. The cup that measure this love. An overflowing shall bestoy a passing of all other loves… of any man or woman has ever known. And I stare at this cup… its passionate liquid to the brim… awating a drop. A drop. One drop shall define. A tear drop shall tip this hearty cup. A drop of love… of truth. Shall overflow. And to the earth spreading life this liquid shall go. Reviving all my hope and dreams. Reminding me why I pressed so long and hard for my morals. It is but a love that can do this. A love that matches my own love. Only then. It is not that love that makes me happy. It is the junction of me and the bueaty. A lovers kiss. A overflowed cup. A true smile. A pure drop. Trust. A balance. For it shall not be prefect. Only heaven is realm of perfection. But this love could put us at the gates of heaven. But still I do fear. A battle formed by time and constant pain… a war. With every loss part of me dies. I have never won this battle. I have never seen what I believe to be love. Love does not hurt. It is not meant to. Only unanswered love, betraid love hurts. I have spent time pondering… and questioning. And only these words are my answer.