Sorry Mr. Storyteller. Poem by Kirabo Anthony

What love was that,
That stood on the melting ice,
Which raided my soul's love
Like the fires of vodka?
It was like a dream of the dreamless
which seemed unconquerable to
reality's sceptre...

I winged high, like a crown
Higher than the depth of the oceans
But, sorry mr. storyteller
Thy false tongue
That ashed my love's innocuousness
Can cripplize it no more...

I won't speak honey but bitter veracity;
That love that clung to
Thy false tongue, thy lies!
That love, is no more,
Sorry mr. storyteller...