Loveslayers
by
Michael Maestri
You are a powerful wind,
And you've blown me off my feet.
I praise you, wind.
You're a hungry lion,
And you've devoured me.
I praise you, lion.
You're a raging fire that warms me even at the great distance that I've run away.
You're a crying child and I would comfort you.
You're a many-colored flower that adds loveliness to my world.
I praise you, fire, child and flower.
You're also an endless forest, and I'm lost in you.
And a great teacher who's opened many doors in my mind.
I praise you, forest and teacher.
You are the world itself to me, and without you I fear I cannot be.
You must be a goddess, you dazzle my mind so with love.
Yet do I hate you, with a hate that coldly separates, and burns white hot with vengeance,
Because you do re-mind me.
You remind me of a love too painful to remember,
A love I stole from parents perfect and threw away in the streets of the city,
Disgracing them to death I do imagine.
So surely now must I deserve not love but a far worser fate for treachery.
Thus does my memory of love and betrayal haunt my heart and sear my soul,
Which to cure I put love out of mind entirely, to pursue instead my reason's substitutes --
Which seem so sound and certain -- in secret even from myself.
I do not remember my ancient dream of killing. I move people like pieces,
And I follow a righteous brain.
So do not speak to me of love, and ask me not again why I do hate you so.
I hate you for your lighthearted way, which I will punish into sorrow.
I hate you for your innocence, which I will make my own.
I hate you because I cannot bear to love you, and I will not call your name.
Yet there are quiet moments
When all of this undoes.
And shining through the nightmare
A gentle light appears.
Then meekly do I leave behind
The torment of my making, And praising truth, I take your hand,
And step into forever
by
Michael Maestri
You are a powerful wind,
And you've blown me off my feet.
I praise you, wind.
You're a hungry lion,
And you've devoured me.
I praise you, lion.
You're a raging fire that warms me even at the great distance that I've run away.
You're a crying child and I would comfort you.
You're a many-colored flower that adds loveliness to my world.
I praise you, fire, child and flower.
You're also an endless forest, and I'm lost in you.
And a great teacher who's opened many doors in my mind.
I praise you, forest and teacher.
You are the world itself to me, and without you I fear I cannot be.
You must be a goddess, you dazzle my mind so with love.
Yet do I hate you, with a hate that coldly separates, and burns white hot with vengeance,
Because you do re-mind me.
You remind me of a love too painful to remember,
A love I stole from parents perfect and threw away in the streets of the city,
Disgracing them to death I do imagine.
So surely now must I deserve not love but a far worser fate for treachery.
Thus does my memory of love and betrayal haunt my heart and sear my soul,
Which to cure I put love out of mind entirely, to pursue instead my reason's substitutes --
Which seem so sound and certain -- in secret even from myself.
I do not remember my ancient dream of killing. I move people like pieces,
And I follow a righteous brain.
So do not speak to me of love, and ask me not again why I do hate you so.
I hate you for your lighthearted way, which I will punish into sorrow.
I hate you for your innocence, which I will make my own.
I hate you because I cannot bear to love you, and I will not call your name.
Yet there are quiet moments
When all of this undoes.
And shining through the nightmare
A gentle light appears.
Then meekly do I leave behind
The torment of my making, And praising truth, I take your hand,
And step into forever
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