It is dead

It is dead. Gone. Faded. Forgotten in the wind.

It will never return from Death’s grip, even if you cry and scream.

Holding the doors as a gentleman. It is gone.

Buying flowers for a desire beauty. Faded.

Writing a poem about the confessions of the beating heart. Forgotten…in the wind.

Wanting a lover’s embrace without the lust. Is no more.

Relations of sexuality are plentiful. Everywhere. Always on the mind.

Where is the care behind the hug?

Where is the tenderness behind the kiss?

Where is the urge to protect the loved one?

Where? In the grave…on the narrow bed…resting along with the virtues…resting with once remembered innocence….sleeping in the icy cold arms of Death.

It is gone. Chivalry and love are dead. It is gone and it will never return. Only lust and greed remains…corrupting our warm-fill hearts and pure souls.

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