For some peculiar reason I felt poetic last night, and started scrawling away. My thoughts drifted to how I've struggled with 'depression' (I use this term lightly, I don't consider myself depressed) and how a lot of who I am today was shaped by my first love, Lauren. We were together for about two years, and have been apart for about the same now, and though I consider myself 'over' her, I naturally still a great deal of emotion as far as she's concerned.Lauren's Lament by James Burgess
An unbearable image, a mental blow,
my hands stained and mind engraved.
The curse I bear, the scar I show,
that final spiteful gift you gave.
Utter devotion, love uncompromising,
by my side, serenity, nothing to want for.
You had everyone tricked, your halo blinding,
and when fell your mask, made me suffer.
Not enough to simply desert,
dragged through torture, to what end?
Blind to the evil, blind to the hurt,
To you my queen, my every fibre I would lend.
If only I listened, my escape was mapped,
your every plot was pointed out.
But I did not believe, for I was trapped,
I did not believe, for I had no doubt.
The shackles released.
The mist cleared.
The peace I knew ceased,
and my anguish reared.
I see now, I am the architect of my own hell,
for they mean nothing, my good intentions.
Each memory, each action I retell,
they grew upon your heinous foundations.
Escaping my own mental underworld,
I discovered the truth, it was but a product.
I saw reason behind, the darkness unfurled,
the design was foreign, it was of your construct.
With every memory of you, I burn,
and is it any wonder why?
But I must remember, I must learn,
That you are the cause, and not I.
