by Morgan Burke
It keeps me imprisoned up here,
A hostage to my thoughts,
It insures that I am paralysed,
And will never be free again.
Once it was a blessing,
A lifetime so long ago,
Filling me with hope and wonder,
And masking all suspicion.
It’s a shame it all turned sour,
Like a fruit wasting away,
Turning all that once was joy,
Into something much more grim.
You can always try to fight it,
To deny its reign of terror,
But it will always come back to find you,
Engulf your every thought.
It confuses your every action and deed,
Making you pause to think,
What would this life have been like,
If I was only free.
It is an oath I swore to follow,
An act I will regret,
I am invincible no more,
Like a gun aimed to my empty heart.
Love, it is my hostage, my downfall and my last regret,
Love - the most dangerous weapon of all.