Anonymous 1m 259 #brokenheart
The views of this article are the perspective of the author and may not be reflective of Confessions of the Professions.
In the dance of love, a reckless cadence played, I, the composer, in mistakes arrayed. A symphony of sorrow, each note a regret, As I weaved a tapestry of hearts upset.
Too many times, I wielded love’s cruel blade, In your eyes, the pain, like shadows, laid. A fragile vessel, your heart bore the strain, As I, blind to consequence, caused endless pain.
In the garden of trust, I trampled the blooms, A tempest of apologies, like distant fumes. Yet, my promises echoed, brittle and thin, As I failed repeatedly, breaking trust again.
Your eyes, once sparkling, dulled with tears, A cascade of heartache through the passing years. I dismantled the fortress, the walls you’d built, With each betrayal, the foundation wilt.
In the tapestry of us, threads began to fray, Love’s brilliance dimming, fading away. A portrait of sorrow, painted in hues of regret, I realize now, love is not a game to beget.
A phoenix of hope, I long to rise, From the ashes of mistakes, where remorse lies. But scars remain, etched on your tender heart, A testament to how many times I tore it apart.
Oh, how I wish for a chance to redeem, To undo the wounds, to erase love’s scream. But time, a relentless river, flows on, Leaving me to bear the weight of love’s dawn.
In the echoes of regret, I find my rhyme, A melody of repentance, a song through time. For the heart I broke too many times, I pray, May it heal and find peace in a brighter day.
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