My Own

If I to follow as a deer in the mist of unsanctified leisure,
You would be but my caravan of betrothed treasures,
I witnessed the cruel ingenuity of man, and was not displeased with the anger arisen in my bosom,
I seem to feel less pain that way, without the constant pangs of your affection,
You do not feel, as I do, fled with the harmonies of loathing flanked with stale, crisp air,
My lungs breathe for I am too humble to admit to it as I do,
I would lie to evade you, but assure you to not bother with care,
I hate the world, for what it has touched my soul with, by all your means, shall perish,
I am not distraught,
My thoughts are not supressed as yours are,
I do not feel to disclose the privacy of my mind as you do your truth,
Filter my thought process,
I will not,
To stop a barred train with bare hands would be foolish of man,
To stump a mouth of wicked encouragement,
Would be dishonest,
Why to lie for a cause which is already set to fail free against nimble tongues of fire,
To burn up in the heat and fade with the thoughts of humanity,
I am not you, nor will I come close,
However with you though I feel consummated,
The hatred I behold against the world is begotten,
I am not your follower,
I can guarantee you that, my own person I am,
I stand behind no one, but to no avail,
You are there, sink treasure sink.


This is an original poem I wrote when I was facing trouble with a loved one I had felt had served their purpose in my life. This poem as well as any of my others is personal to me. Thank you for reading.

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