The last song of the wisps.

Let me sleep

I’m tired of my grief,

I’d like you to 

Love me, love me, love me. 

Therein I wish for sleep
Tired, weary of the weight in my chest
This is the last poem I address to you as my lover
Of a fairytale story.

I won’t be afraid no more, even when my heart threatens to burst out of my chest
But I digress
I cannot sleep, swallowed by the empty restlessness
Yet I confessed,
Made strange circles in the dark with my lit cigarette,
No, there isn’t hope involved, more of an elegy to a lost cause,
I wrote to you in discomfort,
In despair.

I will write no more, your name has only slipped from my lips in
Altarless prayers,
I announce wearily that God is dead

For better or for worse, in sickness and in health,
I part from you,
Or my lips part in a muted scream
Of agony and shame

Oh what unimagined disgrace I have wrought upon my own self.
I am no cheat and my irreverence towards the rules I had made in stone are slowly but surely fading
This is my last prayer in anonymity,
The feebly disguised begging of sympathy I am soon
To convert into what I had set out to be,
Concrete, cold.

Once, I met brightness in the form of hope and that prayer has left my lips atlast,
No regret shall I feel, no anger depose the throne I’ve set you on,
But till time memorial you shall always be
The only one I dared to uplift to an extent from where you could hurt me.

Farewell, the feelings childish and insecure,
I bid goodbye to my love for innocence and sad, broken hearted poetry
In darkness I live, and your light was too strong for me
Fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf


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