Pity him for my betrayal
The more I think about it,
the more I come
come to the conclusion that:
I am not the misfortunate one
I have not been cheated on
I should not pity myself prone
I pity him, who knows not what ills his better half has committed and knows not what treasonous sea his heart's ship is in the middle of. Yes, pity I do, for I with stroke of will alone, titleless and in less time, have conquered that strip of paradise in crime.
Tis he who has felt the the warmth of the sun, but I flew closer than ever he will come. No, I almost usurped that much contested land, but retreated to a safer sand. He, in ignorance, will much glee find, yet still I pity him for what she and I have done when he was blind.
In time, all is forgiven and all wounds are healed, but for now I hold the honor of being caught on a hook and never being reeled. That poor wretch might never know, and so,
I, in much villiany, take solice, having done much worse than all can return to me in malice.