Description: Clearly i wasn't in really good place when i wrote this. Same old teenage longing angsty style emotion which every person thinks is worse than anything anyone else has ever felt before.
Love of Perfection -------------------------------------------
With every tear
I die a thousand deaths
The pain of a million broken hearts
How can eyes that feel such joy
At the mere sight of her
Well such pain in her honour?
Such perfection can bring only bliss
Or emotional torment
Sadly the latter plagues me
I gaze skyward
Not to evoke some holy divinity
But to find something that compares
To the extent of my longing
How far would I have to go
To make her see
That without her I am nothing?
Just a shuddering mass of useless flesh
How many times would I have to die
In her name
Unknown to her
Before she will revive me?
What tests of faith must I endure
In my quest for her
Before I am rewarded the prize?
How many more heartbeats
Coursing pure heartache through my being
Must I calmly bear
To secure a place in her temple?
With each swing of the cutting pendulum
My leaden heart grows heavier
Dragging me to my knees
Before the goddess of my heart
To exalt my beloved angel
How many acts of devotion
Must I submit to
In admiration of her angelic graces
Before she will grant me a place
At the table of her emotion?
The pain of fruitless adoration
Of freedom tasted but turturously ripped away
The pivot upon which my future is hinged
Speaks a resoundingly certian "Maybe"
I have weathered the tempest of doubt in her
And now I stand in the midst
Of the drought of my longing for her
And yet my parched throat rasps still
Extolling her praise
What demons must I exorcise from my life
Before my heart can be considered pure enough
To kneel before the altar
Of the one I deify and idolize
She is the one who I adore
More than life itself
I cherish the chance to worship her
And delight in passionate adulation of her name
And yet sustain no hope
Of finding freedom
In her life-giving embrace
My reverent head bowed
And respectful eyes lowered
Paying homage to my potential saviour
There is no treasure I wouldn't sacrifice
To feel the compassion
To bask in the love
Of which I know she is possessed
And yet I wait for her
To cast her holy eyes upon me
To reward my devotion
With a whispered promise
Of a future paradise.