18. Temptress

It is the dead of night,
the lamp dims at the advancing dark,
I am at my table,
contemplating on choices I am to make.

The pain of seperation,
would I bear it accordingly?
Or am I a coward?
Waiting for the the moment,
to force upon me a choice must make.
So as not to make one,
with my own free will.

T'would be the gentlest of times,
and the strongest of love,
for what young love lacks in direction,
it makes up for in strength.

But how tight are the strings of young love,
willing to stretch?

For distance is forever an enemy of love,
it beguiles us with illusion,
and taints us with regret,
when we return to sanctuary.

This pain of a splitting,
would I stretch my strings?
To tempt Fate and,
as expected,
fail in a final, cataclysmic end?

Or would it be different?
Won't it be beautiful if we made it?

The light is there,
shimmering and just in reach,
but the journey there is a perilous one,
for distance is our enemy,
and distance our enemy we must make,
it screeches and spits,
would it cut our strings?
My strings?

I want to leap,
into the unknown, to,
breathe life back into these corrupted lungs,
but yet, I hang back.
Why so?

Is not something I desire,
so easy to attain?
If so, then why do I hang back?
My doubts cloud me,
they claw at me,
at my mind,
screaming at me to make a choice.

To tempt Fate,
or to not tempt Fate,
and let Reality grasp my hand,
and lead me down its painful path, I don't know.
The Temptress does not make things better.

It is the dead of night,
the lamp dims at the advancing dark,
I am at my table,
contemplating on choices I am to make.