Journal you are my only release where the story of my ache can be told Once I held the riches of her heart in my hands The very substance that placed love upon the throne of my kingdom Fate had her hand to play For her rules be dictated by none Dealt to the many Her avarice to satisfy Unto the dungeon of your cold heart I was banished To be a soul that doth crave her attention Won't she heed my call? Hearken unto the sounds of my cry Mercy, I beg of you Clinging in desperation of her touch Worthy only of the paucity of her depth to love My being laden with the burden of regret and need Conflicts of my mind A war of the heart and soul Hungering for a taste of her lips My gluttony only to be satisfied with the scraps of love thrown from her table Once I was her King I remain ever faithful now Her loving pauper |
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