My Romantic Convictions

You were once the blood in my veins;
the beat in my heart; the breath in my
lungs; the spring in my step; the oh so
sweet voice within my mind. But now,
only the emptiness of your departure
remains where you once bloomed,
and I shall forever go without what I
suspected to be love evermore,
because the absence of your soul is
worse than death itself, and I know
that reducing my wrists to bloody
ribbons will do not a thing to stem
the endless pain that will continue
onwards to haunt me, even in the
after life. So what cure could I dare
take to be rid of the agony that
cripples all that is left of a once
passionate human being, forced to
cry myself to sleep at night for
your image is no longer there to
bring comfort to the oceans of my
heart?

I was intoxicated, always, on the
inebriating fires of our passion; but
maybe love is just for poets, as to
have themselves a written word of
romance everlasting, but not for
me is such an emotion of the heart
so it would seem, albeit with a
fortune that be foul in its upbringing,
rather than pleasantly stupendous.
It would be a gross miscarriage of
romance though, to bid the
allowance of the woman who puts
the rising sun to shame, to be
removed from the custody of my
treasured soul, even though it be
theorized on many a moment before
that when someone is loved they
ought to be excused, and maybe it
is out of jealousy or greed, but
never in a million years could I
allow this occurrence, that be so
wrongful in its existence, to transpire
here today.

Relegated to a piece of dust in a
world of brightness exponential; a
mere shadow of dirtiness and grunge
that does not deserve the tolerance
or acknowledgment of your adoring
heart, I become an avatar for the
hardest of all emotions. My rain of
tears falls upon me, from my face
that be defaced with a sadness that
does not comply with any such
definition of the word. On this
final note, if you believe I do not
love you, then ask me to remove
myself, and like the legions of men
before me, whom have fallen upon
their swords in the name of love, I
will honor your wishes and gladly
take my life, if but at the conclusion
of my final breath, you believe the
honesty of my romantic convictions.

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About totalovrdose

I am an online journalist, video game reviewer, mental health advocate and post graduate university student. I am a massive video gaming geek; a lover of intellectual conversations; an award winning procrastinator; a devilishly charming nuisance and the definition of 'fun' (sometimes). My blog is filled with many a soporific love poem, and is simply the beginning in my quest to become a published author. Please stop by and say 'Hi!' (that rhymes!) :D

Posted on February 20, 2014, in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. I feel the pain in this piece. Because I’ve been there – remember? Only YOU decides how long it takes to reach the point where you believe me when I say, ‘this too shall pass’. It does.

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