Torn

You cant be torn between two worlds,
One step in the door, and the heart;
You cant be ether, here and there,
That’s how atoms get torn apart.

Love is what keeps you journeying;
But Love is what made me realise:
As time pulls, it tires and hardens,
Eventually, snaps and dies.

It’s not love’s fault that it merges
What the past was with the present;
It always fails to consider
What was said and what the thought meant.

You fly through atmospheric space,
Touching earth, then soaring to sky;
But one place shall give, it’ll be time
To either dig deep or fly high.

Then won’t be a chance to back out,
Or descend, though your need compels,
You won’t be torn between two worlds:
There’re no two heavens nor two hells.

OLD FRIEND

I have nothing else to say to you now.
I have nothing more to offer or give.
I have spent my heart, I have kept each vow.
You forget all and I cannot forgive.
The torture of the heart (and there is one)
Is akin to a murder by drowning;
And all that was felt and said and done
Is now a matter for blackened mourning.
Words, like gales, seem to rush past as you leave,
Feelings, however, will not leave with you;
I have lost my faith, I cannot believe,
I cannot discern just which past was true.
And so, old friend, you have prepared me well:
I doubt heaven, I’m undaunted by hell.

What I Know of Heaven and Hell.

I have never asked for much.
Just to live the way You made me.
I have lived by my terms alone.
Those were conducted honestly.

No great ambition, no low vice,
Yet I’ve suffered loss, greatly so;
But I have shown no cowardice
And this is something You do know.

You put one hubris in my heart:
This need that burns within my core.
You caressed it thrice with your pawns
Ultimately, I was Your whore.

You threw down love, like ‘twas my fee,
For all that I have given You.
Maybe my mistake was calling you Father
After lying before you naked and true.

I love You. But don’t treat me thus!
It’s unfair to make me desire.
On giving, you make me Your whore
But know that makes You my buyer.

If You need revenge of some sort,
You are exacting it quite well,
And in the pain of my loved ones
You are creating my hell.

People talk of life after death;
But, oh, I know the truth so well,
Each smile You let is my heaven,
Each tear You force is my hell.

5:45am
7th October.