A poem...

[Lady Sidhe]

If I'm one of your least favorite people, don't even bother reading this, because I really can't deal with any more right now. I'm serious. Say, "hey, nice meter, nice rhyme," or "dude, that sucks ass," or "why is your poetry so fucking depressing?" or whatever...I can deal with that, because I really only write for myself. But I truly can't take anymore shit about whining or whatever, cause I'm feeling more desolate and hopeless than I've ever felt in my life ....

I only write poetry when I'm severely depressed, so don't expect anything warm and fuzzy...My life is about as low as it can get right now, and even though the poetry doesn't make it all better or relieve the pain, it at least gets it out a little, you know?...And maybe it can make someone who's feeling the same way feel a little better knowing that they're not alone....

Sidhe


I WAS WRONG

There's no such thing as "love" or "us,"
"Forever" is a lie--
A happy start, then finding fault, and finally,
"goodbye."

It sucks you dry, it breaks your heart,
It rips your soul to shreds-
then lays the blame upon your feet, until
you wish that you were dead.

And there you sit, an empty husk,
with nothing left to give-
crying seas of tears and blood, and
seeking a reason to live.

"It's over" echoes in your mind,
as you stare at the remnants of your trust
lying shattered in a pile,
thrown to mingle with the dust.

"Goodbye" rings sweetly in his ears,
already you're forgotten-
A piece of garbage swept away,
flawed and old and rotten.

So never trust, and never love
and never give your heart away-
'Tis better if you never love, for
Oh! The price that you will pay!

The photographs twist in your heart,
the memories twist it more-
The Dagger of What Could Have Been
and What Had Gone Before.

The price of You, Yourself, your Trust,
your Love and Faith and Heart-
for words are only that--just words--
and they'll tear your Soul apart.

What is meant is never said,
what's said is never meant-
Hear me now, and listen close--
"I love you, need you" is the hint.

Do not believe the sweetened words,
the tears, the desperate hug-
For all the promises are empty
and the Grave's already dug.

So heed the voice of one who knows,
Of one who gave her Life
because she Loved, because she Hoped,
Whose Heart has felt The Knife.


Angelia Bernard
LadySidhe
24 May 2005