The grass is dying where that young tree grew
Planted by lovers, nobody ever knew.
It grew so fast, amongst the green, lush grass.
And cool was its shade, as the hot sun passed.
But when days, months, which to lovers is years,
ended, without either coming near,
the young tree they once before planted,
and loved so intensely, each having a hand in,
began to whither and deform, gone are its leaves, which once adorned,
its branches, now thorns, no shade, no more, instead it's
dead,
scorned,
rotted, to its core.
And nobody but they
knew it was ever born.
Time passed on and the lovers crossed paths.
Though not lovers anymore, they still shared a mutual past.
"I thought I would go to that old tree again, often I think
about the time we would spend."
Knowing her charm, long ago he removed
His fate from her hands, a duty he behooved.
For too long he waited, and the time only proved,
While other trees grew, her desire having moved,
From pasture to pasture, he believed the only truth,
Resided in the beauty which she perceived so often,
And eager to know whether a tree there could
blossom. Up they sprang, so eager, so high.
Each pasture in secret, away from all affected eyes.
Unwise, he knew, was to believe her truth,
False words she uttered, to direct his rudder,
To keep him, them, sucking from utter.
But not alone to discover this mystery,
Since God does not so long allow this treachery.
When the winds carried news, blowing through
The leaves of her ruse, against his face, he felt the utter, gross disgrace.
Shame filled his heart, to have ever been a part,
Of her tricks, her games, which were sprung from loss, and pain.
But still no less a flame from hell she secretly obtained.
Destruction, deceit, disloyal, discreet...
Pain. That was now her reign.
Falling from grace, From God's embrace,
She turned her back on the angelic race.
She sought to confuse, and destroy, with a mere taste.
Men, hypnotized, by her face, her waist, her
arms, her charms,
and voice;
light and full of grace,
foolishly made haste her way.
But having shed the woes of her pleasures,
He was now determined to take proper measures.
For years, he was mindful of her spell,
But now he fought against this curse, and believed
whatever joys she could bring,
would always be
coupled
with hell.
So he said:
"That tree we planted, all those years ago, which kept us cool when the sun hung low,
is not sick, hurt, stranded, or dismayed. It is not wounded, neglected, damaged, or flayed.
The state of the tree, which you helped grow with me,
Is now ash, burned at last.
A hole I dug, as deep as I could, and buried the cursed dust, where the tree once stood.
But so polluted was the rot in the wood, it turned the soil sour, almost within the hour.
The grass that was once was so lush and dense, has been poisoned at last, robbed of nutrients. While I speak to you here, well enough and content,
You'll not find happy resonance of the days we once spent.
Regret, I often feel, but resolved for knowing,
You were merely an object for my own souls growing.
So I urge, in an honest and well meaning tone,
Enough harm has been caused that I will no longer condone.
And I warn, do not go seeking greener pastures that way.
Whichever tree you now possess, keep held against your breast,
Keep your curses in your vest, let the wounds have a rest.
You cannot heal, but only damage, since your desires
are not managed. And your beauty, your advantage, your
smiles, a bandage, when a heart perceives it's abandoned.
Distressed was I, when my own was left dry,
While you sought another, and to that fact was not shy.
In my mind I witnessed it a thousand times,
connected the scenes and filled in the lines.
I felt at a loss, but no more will I lose,
since the images I used, to scrape off the
residue of once hopeful signs,
of a deeper meaning for you.
Now I, firm, and better than you'll learn,
Wish to be free, no longer to discern
The decisions you make, for your own pleasures sake.
I leave you now, for my own goodness sake.
No lies, no more. I've closed that door.
To save you the trouble of making them anymore.
For our paths crossed once, and now for the last time.
In the form of these words, which were easier said in rhyme.
This is not meant to hurt, or cause you sadness,
This is meant to save me, and you, from utter madness.
.......
Your life is yours, and your happiness your own.
But please, now, for
The good of us both,
Leave me, and mine
Alone.