My Witness

My Witness

Aesthetics of the past that torment

Beyond control they elicit and rend

Now can be seen mistakes and success

So often regret alone is felt

It’s because only love lost’s the dagger

The metamorphosis of Cupid’s arrow

Unseen until the hit, it wounds

Love’s rose-tinted specs, always disguises

And no escape, as we’re bound to tears

For the drug of love’s the kiss

Stealthily drawn ‘til we’ve no idea if its evening or dawn

Anesthetic of the senses

The moment comes when aesthetics makes remembrance

But too, it’s how you know you’ve lived and played

Within its sadness suddenly rises gladness

Because it brings the future, optimism for happiness