"an intense but short-lived passion or admiration for someone"
Queen Tut, her Masquerade.
Temptress in the emerald blades,
her teeth bared, smile disguised a snarl;
pink tongue honey thick-the sweet nothings said.
A liar, pokerface’d drama her art
Shall I be a fool if art’s taken to heart?
I didn’t choose to live a life of hesitation,
nor did I choose to show compassion,
Weakness and care.
What I would give to revert to mine reckless intent,
to plough my way through hearts with a hell bent
passion for pain in their eyes.
Leave me, bitter disposition. I asked not for you,
a burden forced upon me, one that grew
with mine heart. Piss off.
What is it we've come to in youthful naivety,
we've allowed infatuations of a Shakespearian kind,
to rule not heart but body and mind?
Alas, I'm pondering longer and harder:
to be poor Ophelia- what would I rather?
to feel? I ask, to feel
the scars of "love's" dagger upon my heel?
I shall not wonder "where art thou" for thine art foul
is the bane of manhood, Troy at Helen's clutch- your cancerous touch.
"the action or state of being unfaithful"
Does it matter that you are not alone?
If hypothetically, I was not alone-
am not alone.
Jack and Hil, Marylin, Monica?
an end is inevitable- neither better than the other.
She and I are young, We is old, born a millenia ago-
The only thing promised is death.
"punishment that is considered to be morally right and fully deserved"
You slide in the first two,
chat a bit of shit and I do too,
I say I don’t give a fuck and load two more,
I match you blow for blow and I’m calling you a whore,
you’re calling me a dick, you start talking slick
about ancient things, what we’d put behind us, really taking the piss.