“I kept cussing my soul for it was unleashed now.
It kept racing and crossing the limits I maintained, since forever.
Possession tricked me,
Love, already swallowed me half.
However, the consequences,
I’m afraid are not the kind to be openly shared.
For they won’t be as pleasing as literature.
Diabolical they might be, I conceive a doubt.
Perhaps ugly too.
But then again, they follow you, My love.
As devastated I might sound I promise, It still keeps me.
Keeps me obsequent
And feeds on my innocence.
Possession occurred to me in abundance
which I am not accustomed to.
But for no heaven’s sake you will even comprehend what it has done to me.
Like fire does to woods,
it does not eliminate their presence but make them coal.
And coal is not Wood, My love.
As long as I have walked
Carrying this happiness on my face clearly like an onus.
Benevolence, I realise,
Has already parted ways with me.
And clandestine as it may look
I grow to be a misanthrope,
Something you thought I never would be.
But then again,
It’s you my Love
For I have promised you a million times
Hurricanes may arrive
But they must not destroy the ocean.
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