True Love

While I roam the boundless halls of this arcane world, I feel the pull of my soul.
Incorrigible in its irritations, and pleadings for me to hold.
I try, but my hands are full, with the broken men that I cannot let go.
I must let you walk, behind, beside, in front of me, or let you fade away to die slowly.
I know you want me, need me, and, I need and want you too.
But in this moment as I wander with aim, I need you to be strong,
hold on, and help me to find what I need so that I may get back to you.
For as I search and interview, find precisely what is right for me and for you
I grow weary, fatigue, and exhausted from the repetition and apathy, that greets me—stoically.
What hypocrisy!
How is it that they can be detached from reality, love, and me, but still want to horizontally pin me?
I need not ask of their love or a future, for these are none existing things.
They merely seek warmth in a hole that provides them moments of inexpressible ecstasy.
Even though that is not what my publicist, adverts, and desires requested deftly.
Why am I not to be taken seriously?
Or, has these men been broken for so long they can never be again formed fully?
Could it be these men, intuitively mirror what they, see in me?

Please someone help me; us?
I cannot come back here and feign strength, care, or genuine lust.
For they are not enviable and, loneliness is a more appealing tryst.
Sweet melancholy, and pleasing bitterness, leave me alone, or not,
My mind is torn between undesirables and self-rot.
Veiled happiness knocks on my door and offers me depression, deterioration, and suicide, wrapped beautifully, along with the free gift of cold, and disconnected pleasure that has a two year guarantee.
With my bleak outlook, I wear rose colored tints; knock-offs from the clearance sale bin.
I am afraid to live, I have nothing tangible, worthwhile, or anything of which to put hope in.
But I am afraid to die, and leave this misery alone.
Will I be forever, pathetic, lost, dejected, and on my own?

Alas, it is so, as Love has died (Rest In Peace) and is survived by pseudo-lust, sexual-misconduct, debauchery, indifference, exploit, evil, deviltry, and a host of other wicked words and their synonyms.

My Soul waits patiently… for his rebirth.