**Lover's Remorse (Depressive)

Aphrodite’s cheek on his shoulder and

The Queen of Hearts in his supple hand.

A fighter, a lover, a dream met fruition.

A friend, a confidant, poison intuition.

Like a handful of sand swept away by the breeze

The man felt so lost in his chronic disease.

Eros the archer had pierced through his shield.

Three years ahead, the man hadn’t healed.

He kept fighting on, he quietly persisted,

He tried his best, but he could not resist it.

The impression Aphrodite left on his shoulder

He needed her back, feeling colder and colder.

Then our friend aged, he got older and older.

Put himself on the market, but he hadn’t yet sold her.

He felt with his lungs and he heard with his heart,

He loved with his brain and it all fell apart.

A flustered mess, both his body and soul.

Bound to break before his story was told.

So I tore out his lungs so he no longer felt

And I cut out his heart so he no longer heard.

Reshuffled the hand and the cards he was dealt

But that bastard could not be denied or deterred.

So I killed him right there, in the spot where he stood.

I slashed him and bashed him and watched him bleed out.

I know somewhere deep down that he understood.

There was no time for a lover so defiant, devout.

Catharsis, Liberation, a weight off my shoulder,

I felt like moving a mountain, pushing a boulder.

Til’ later my new Queen requested a lover.

Now here we are and I can’t say I love her.

The dead man loved, overwhelmed by his feelings.

The rest of me lost like I stand on the ceiling.

He had to die for release from the shackles,

I now fake the flames so the fireplace crackles.

A full life of misery, downtrodden defeat,

Or a partial death, pick the best seat.

I know what I’d do if I had to repeat.

I’d murder again, but this time complete.