Wednesday, September 17, 2014

The Myth

If you were the ocean
Or the turbulent sea
I would stand on the shores
Holding hands with Penelope

But you are not the ocean
And you are not the sea
While I stand on the cold shores
You do not come to me

If love was an arrow
And I was Daphne
I would run through the forest
Turning into a laurel tree

But love is not an arrow
And I am not Daphne
Escaping  Eros’ false love
You still don’t care to see

If you were a cracked wall
And I was on my knee
I would fall on my sword
United with sweet Thisbe

But you are not a cracked wall
Yet I am on my knee
I have fallen on my sharp blade
And we are still not meant to be





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