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No More, My Love

by

Martin H. Tesler

Fall has snuffed out summer's fire,
No more will the warm breeze blow;
Chilled winds are the season's ire,
No more will my aura glow;
'Cause she is gone, my love sublime,
No more will her warmth I hold;
She's left me now, yet one last time,
No more will my dreams unfold.

Her smile, her voice—they filled my heart,
No more will I see her face;
God, how I ache for my sweetheart,
No more will her lips I taste.
Her silken hair, so soft to touch,
No more will I hold her tight;
Her sculptured hands I miss so much,
No more will my soul ignite.

For hoping that we'd share our lives,
No more will my wish be found;
For wanting to believe her lies,
No more will my mind be sound;
For giving her all of my heart,
No more will I self deceive;
For hoping that we'd never part,
No more will I be naive.

Thinking back to the very start,
No more will I be consumed,
By gnawing hints that she'd depart,
No more will I postpone doom.
She planned it well to cause upset,
No more will I be the same;
She left four years from the day we met,
And without remorse or shame.

I lived those years of tortured bliss,
No more will I take the brunt,
Of truths I knew and truths I missed,
No more will her ways affront.
Her distraught past and values broke,
No more will I reap the pain,
Of twisted thoughts and deeds that spoke
Of a mind long gone insane.

For wanting her to be my wife,
No more will my hopes abound;
For betrayed trust that scarred my life,
No more will my faith rebound;
For promises she tore apart,
No more will she make me grieve;
For shattered vows and cheating heart,
No more will her words deceive.

Now shackled by a fate that's near,
No more will my spirit burn;
My life's a void without her here,
No more will my seasons turn.
Death's shadow, now it beckons me,
No more will her hurt be done;
The cold blue steel will set me free,
No more will I fear this gun.

I'll raise it high, and towards my head,
No more will I hesitate;
It's over now, for she has fled,
No more will I bear this fate.
A gentle squeeze, a loud resound,
No more will I cry in vain,
For peace will come with a single round,
Planted firmly in my brain.


Copyright 2001 Martin H. Tesler. All rights reserved.

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