I, The Fool

Hopelessly bound,
by the chains of love’s grip;
the greatest gift,
yet fate’s cruelest curse.

Why do I weep?
at knowing the joy,
the warmth,
at feeling the peace,
the flame,
the fire.

Why do I weep?
unable to be complete
Unable to just ‘be,’
unknown to the kiss,
the flame,
the heat. Why do I weep
at loving, not living
seeing, not touching
breathing, not sharing
holding, not loving?

because I, The Fool,
Deserve love no more? Copyright © Ryan Price, December 2010

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