Fallacies

Trinkets of a promise

Long past, long forgotten

Emerge slowly from the sands of time,

To haunt me so, my love-that-was,

That shadows rise from the graves

Of the sordid past I’d buried

To let you be, and let me live

A death so silent.

But the graves are all agog again

With the cry of the bygones

And the trust you once undid me.

 

You said we’ll move on. You did.

But tell me once it was worth it,

And I’ll die a death more peaceful than

Than the one I live.

 

And before you say it,

Let it be known

That your eyes

Have never lied.