Oh, how much easier it is to drown,
To be scattered between winds and storms,
To be mere fragments in a raging ocean,
Than to have my path rewritten in the moment of a lover’s betrayal,
My loyalty slaughtered by disappointment.
Is this my true love?
My heart still recites poems in your shadow,
Still finds solace in your kindness—
Which of your pulses flows in my veins?
Your pain festers like a bitter betrayal,
Leaving its scars deep within me.
Have you forgotten you were once the glowing light of my heart?
Or did you simply ignore the flame of my love,
A fire that words fail to describe?
A love that, when it meets the salty sea,
Turns its ripples sweet.
O ungrateful one, I thought you were my healer,
My full moon in the darkness, my shield in war—
Yet you betrayed me with the malice of passion,
And carried the remnants of my loyalty in your hollow heart.
Go—
For you have shattered my heart.
Go—
And let my sorrow be your only memory of me.
I retreat into silence,
Writing my own elegy, my own epic.
Oh night, come to me,
For I have nothing but your solace.
If the moon shone for me,
I would not need its light.
Oh night, tell me, was he faithful to you?
The answer came: No—he betrayed you too.
You, my heart—do not tremble.
Tell me truly, did you ever love him?
Do you still beat with the warmth of his love?
If so, then you are not my heart—
You belong to him!
How can you, my heart,
Accept the wound of betrayal without protest?
He veils his ingratitude behind a shield of tears.
He plunged a dagger between my ribs
And then the wound deepened—
Blood flowed.
He pulled me from the heights
And cast me to the ground.
He stole my wakefulness
Yet gave me no peace in return.
A foolish fate trampled me under its weight.
My tears softened his eyelids,
Yet his lips never lost their smile.
Do I see the awakening of death,
Or merely the slumber of life?
Where is my despair?
It has passed—
As has my desire.
My existence is neither darkness nor light.
Everything that once was, is no longer—
And I am no longer me.
In the shade, I burn with the fire of the sun,
And my conscience pulls me toward a passion devoid of conscience.
And to where?
Do not ask, for I do not know my fate.
He destroyed me because I once loved him.
And even now, his love pulses within you.
You are not my heart—
You are his!
If you’re reading this, I hope you never experience such pain.
