Reverie

My Love, My Life

It starts off slow in a pitter-patter

of words gently painting exposition.

The murmurs of conflict soon grow madder,

now shouting in feared competition.

I am entombed, chained to the raging plots;

my obsession betrays and contains me.

I live in a fantasy world of thoughts;

real life hides in shrewd anonymity.

And yet, when upon those books my gaze falls,

I feel nothing but flaming compassion.

My prison is my home; me it enthralls.

Without my loves I would descend, ashen.

In this sort-of-life I am suspended

but with my desire I am contented.