Goth Chic

I loved a girl
once in my own
little, despicable way.
I cherished her
happiness and in
her smiles, all my sorrow
(a great number of)
were forgotten.
I admired from afar
died in her pain
flourishing in her victories

But as life
was beautiful
to my weary mind,
so was it cruel
to my dog-panting heart.
My love was
sadly unrequited.
Her heart beat
for another, a
beautiful human
matching her own
otherworldly beauty – elegance for elegance.
The banality of my
plight destroyed the sanctity
of my frail reasoning

He’d worked his way
with unnatural dexterity
(coupled with a masterly feigned
passion that’d
make Le Fanu’s Millarca blush)
into my lady’s heart.
And she became his
forever set in grim,
cold marble and epitaphs.

See her now?
She lies there
her head on her lover’s bosom
in that place of wet sand
and their irresistible beauty
mingled with layers of stunning
remains ever blinding
in their majestic grave
of nondescript love.

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