Relieve the pain.
Scribble words.
An act mundane,
to his universe.

He'd had enough,
and so he said –
                 ~
      Oh my love!
         I have paid.  
     All my love,
        down to the pave.
     For you bore not,
        the love I gave.
    Untie my knot,
        undone this slave.
                 ~
"Set me free!"
   His heart exclaims. . .

"I loved not thee."
   She proclaims.

Then cometh to his wits,
   it was he who enslaved,
himself to pain down the pits;
   when for love he had laid,
His Soul. His Truth. His Bliss.

Then so he wrote one final creed,
the last of his odes; his parting plead.
                      
                                                           Drag­ me deep down!
                                                           To the depths of fiery Tartarus!
                                                            for love is an act so murderous,
                                                            that everyday it smites mine heart.

                         I've given up this life I own,
                        sold to ink for one purpose.
                        Write poems, songs, odes; all in chorus.
                        Cram all ardor into immortal art.

 That if one day I be finally known,
 for the fool I was; in love I lose.
 May my path not be used,
 that time I know I've done my part.
                      
"To play the act of the  b r o k e n   f o o l."