I Write Our Romance In Blood...

I write our romance in blood.
Each line is blazing with red fire.
You torture me; my soul prays to God
To stop that unless the powers expire.

With pretty smile you watch me bleed.
There's no pity or compassion.
Love blinded me so I can't see your deed.
About that you just forgot to mention.

I end another page of our story.
It's soaked up with overwhelming pain.
My writing makes the paper gory –
Burgundy inks are pouring from my vein.

Our love is sick and I am helpless.
It's maiming me, breaking inside.
In spite of that I go on with sacrificial process.
Will it be lasted till I get bled white?

One little hurt evokes to gashes
As if you calmly rip out my heart,
Letting a tear touch my frozen eyelashes
So bring the body and the soul to exist apart.

I'm tangled; are you so brutal?
Or love got used to treat me like a toy.
Pathetic fool whose zeal is futile.
Why is it me you seem to covet to destroy?

That love throws to me only torments.
It literally transfixes over and over again.
I start new chapter, depicting every moment.
It's deeply painful bleeding I'm out to restrain.

There is the way, the easy way
Of getting rid of this excruciation:
Just cease to love you and so betray
My feelings; such desperate falsification.

You mean the world to me, it's true.
Yet mental wounds of mine appeal to God.
We're falling into love, that's only clue
As to the reason
Why I continue writing our romance in blood.