I'm sitting here with me while
She's lying. There with him,
The healer who won't be healed
Becomes, instead, a martyr and
Leaves me feeling used and more
Than bitter about the script:
She's somehow managed to save
Me from emotional suicide then
Forced me to look on while she
Turns and falls on her own sword.
She steals sex from her men just
As she takes truth from her women.
Nothing serves to dull the pain.
We're neck deep in the Styx and
I just keep on pulling for shore
Hoping that it's enough to hold
Her head above that unholy tide.
No quid pro quo here, love.
No vindication for me
In your needless self-destruction
And the gods exact a heavy price
When you know but you don't act!
Robert S. Clarke
Copyright 1995
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome. I love it. I can really feel the emotion From it. It is quite beautiful, In it's absolute despair. Wrath~