No Heart
Friends, I had a dream of love:
It stood bright and fierce in a sunset glow,
And though exposed seemed a fortress,
It was warm to touch and so secure
I felt aloof, I felt invinsible, content,
What a naive memory to harbour!
When all I have experienced lingers
Like a bitter taste or wintry frost,
No such thing is there now for me
In as much as I have given away my heart,
Imagine that shrivelled creature! Beating,
But hardly so, and in some forgotten place,
It never meant that much to him anyway,
And loved it, cared for it with all my being,
Until I hastily gave it away,
And in these last months I am destruction
Of self, of him, of reputation,
And my body fails like my wounded mind,
I am lifeless, I am heavy, and I am still
Impassioned, but always expressionless,
Was I somehow betrayed by my dream?
Or did I betray myself with murder,
All those things disappeared in my lifelong struggle,
With blame going to some fantasy I saw,
And a feigned promise in one man's empty words,
I am a sorry creature with no apparent sway,
And no convictions to carry me through,
No belief that I am more important than us,
I would sooner lay myself to permanent rest
Than see the me I could become if I still loved myself.
Alas, I no more have a heart with love to give.
It stood bright and fierce in a sunset glow,
And though exposed seemed a fortress,
It was warm to touch and so secure
I felt aloof, I felt invinsible, content,
What a naive memory to harbour!
When all I have experienced lingers
Like a bitter taste or wintry frost,
No such thing is there now for me
In as much as I have given away my heart,
Imagine that shrivelled creature! Beating,
But hardly so, and in some forgotten place,
It never meant that much to him anyway,
And loved it, cared for it with all my being,
Until I hastily gave it away,
And in these last months I am destruction
Of self, of him, of reputation,
And my body fails like my wounded mind,
I am lifeless, I am heavy, and I am still
Impassioned, but always expressionless,
Was I somehow betrayed by my dream?
Or did I betray myself with murder,
All those things disappeared in my lifelong struggle,
With blame going to some fantasy I saw,
And a feigned promise in one man's empty words,
I am a sorry creature with no apparent sway,
And no convictions to carry me through,
No belief that I am more important than us,
I would sooner lay myself to permanent rest
Than see the me I could become if I still loved myself.
Alas, I no more have a heart with love to give.