The Disappointed Lament - A song of disappointment, heartbreak and resolve

You sneaked in through the iron bars of my heart, caught me unawares

Unobtrusively so. Unalarmingly so.

Realisation dawned, but a moment too late, by when

You sat, comfortably encushioned between my battling morals, pleased ego

Warning guilt, traitorous desire, emotions running high and low.

Why do I deceive myself so?

I watched you closing in, watched you snare your hook

Knowing fully well, it was against the rules of the book

Neither friend nor foe, yet, I dipped in, a toe

I met you halfway, then why do I deceive myself so?

Flattered beyond words, ignorance I feigned

As I spied naked desire, in your eyes, and on your face

Fooling myself by closing my eyes, I slipped you the keys, hand-in-hand

Nonchalant on the outside, doing an excited little jig on the inside

Controls in-hand, my time, I did bide.

Then, why do the tears flow, unchecked so?

From the pain of disappointment, as you draw the blinds?

I helped you drive the blade in, I let you tighten the binds

Aware that you would protect your interests; Wanting, notwithstanding.

Then why didn’t I do the same, I had enough warning?

Why do the tears flow so?

But, I am hurting now.

Against all instincts, I gave you the key, I let you in

I let you nest, knowing fully well that you were an impediment

I am responsible for this systemic dysfunction 

Luxuriating in the pleasantness of the temporary reverie, I gave in.

Why do I beat myself up, pathetically so?

Hoping against hope, that you’d prove me wrong

Even as you jumped off the sinking boat, singing your solo song

Anger, disgust, sadness, disappointment - a cauldron of furious emotions;Churning out guilt, at the beration; 

I made my bed and lay in it, then why do I beat myself up, so?

The oft-lived scenes of this much cliched movie unfold

Predictable, right up to the tears trailing down my cheeks, as the credits roll.

Much like a sadist, I continue to nurse the tiny flicker of hope

that you’d rewrite the ending, reshoot the climax, flout the rule.

Relent to the adamance, stupidity and naiveté of my soul.

Why do I sit here lifeless, deflated, defeatedly so?

The yarn was mine, and I wove it so, must take responsibility for my situation

There’s no romance in regret, no glamour in depression

Get up, grab the joystick, play another game, move on, go!

Don’t sit here dejectedly so.