Only In My Grave Poem by Adams King

Remind me to love only in my grave
There my heart cold numb and bloodless
Could feel not the betraying daggers
Sharp, such that love ends with

Men, women, all living saints and demons
Disguised in their apparel of pretence
Come closer with a self burning lustful passion
And find no other name but call it love

Flaunt not those faulty feathers to my face
They are but vain hopes that swells
Risen high then fall to hopelessness
Like a falling bird shot by a hungry hunter

Pains, such that love inflicts on it victims
Could burn like a thousand roman torch
And lit in ones heart the most hurtful hell
With flaming coals no torrent could quench

Remind me to love only in my grave
For that which is dead feels no pain
No ears to hear nor eyes to see
Nor heart to feel for any loving fool