pining for my love.
Away it sails.
Away it goes.
I will cross oceans of acid for you,
How would you feel?
Not having found what was set out to be.
Returning touted as the killer of a killer,
lauded for so many bad things.
Now, a tortured victor.
Will you disarm me when I return,
or pave the way with gold?
A consecrated offering.
A hazard, almost.
No mark left of the man that had left ages ago,
searching for his love.
Acquiring more ill than devotion,
out across the oceans.
If I told you my pleasure comes first,
that your feelings don't matter to me,
would you still offer praise?
Still lick clean my wounds,
my infected arteries, heart and brain?
I can not promise I'll be grateful,
after you spend hard time trying to fix
that which cannot be.
A tarnished franchise that's got to build back to eminence from the ground up.
A disgraced Guru that casts broad nets for sympathy.
an under played hand
& a welcome overstayed.
I get the feeling that it's too cold in here for you.
That you'd have me fetch a blanket or turn up the heat.
It's the self-awareness.
The presence of mind,
that makes it so obvious...