Broken Doves {To Hate or Love?}
From the first day I saw you, I knew
that I hated you.
You had that look,
that air about you,
as though the world was
your personal dollhouse,
and its people
your dolls.
You acted like the world was just
another play to perform,
to recite line after line
of those filthy lies that you call
the truth.
As though everyone should bow down
and kiss your filthy feet,
as though those who walked
through life with you
were just toys who soon
lost all value,
all worth.
God I hated that about you.
That stupid air of greatness,
that infuriating smirk,
that arrogant way you looked at everyone.
That way you looked at me.
I hated you so much,
partly because of your
holier-than-thou air,
but mostly because
of the way
you looked
at me,
as though I wasn’t there.
As though I wasn’t real.
And the way you looked at me,
as though I was the air,
filled my heart with fear
that you were right.
For even though I loathed you,
wished you’d just disappear, I felt
some connection,
like a tie,
to everything you said,
to every breath you took.
I could see the pain inside you,
where perhaps others
could not.
And despite my disgust in you,
my absolute detesting of you,
my heart began to fill
with pity,
and I was torn in two,
over a silly little Human
who meant nothing to me.
I hated you more than I hated me,
and yet, through that hatred,
my vision cleared,
as though the search for all your faults
had cleared my eyes of mist,
as a flashlight
clears the gloom.
My piercing, burning hatred
had cleared the fog of instinct,
of blind wariness,
and showed me things that I know
I would not have found alone.
I was torn until, at last, I was
compelled to do some research.
I pulled every file, every name,
every piece of history,
from the little information
I’d received on you.
And slowly, I began to place
each little piece into its spot on the picture,
until at last I’d made
a blueprint of your past.
And then my pity really swelled
as I read what you’d been through.
To be sealed to a permanent fate
to serve a lesser purpose,
to lose your father while still young,
to be betrayed by family,
to grow up
all alone,
not knowing what to do,
to thrive on hatred every day,
because that’s just
how lost
you were.
And, most dreadful yet,
to be Human in those times,
to be Human now, and still
suffer that horrid destiny,
that fate that had
defeated you,
to be forced to endure,
survive,
that wretched, painful past
with nothing but Human strength
to get you by –
I knew then, I’d
underestimated
a much stronger person than I had first
perceived you
to be.
I look back into your eyes,
hesitate a moment,
and wonder if you see in me,
a kindred soul,
a warming shelter
to ease your pain
unconditionally.
Is the way you look at me
not full of spite
or numbness?
Are those not the eyes of a cold,
unfeeling stone,
but instead the eyes
of a soul
lost in this world?
Are your eyes
like the dead ones in me,
cold, hopeless,
filled with pain,
and hardened with fear?
Are your eyes merely pools of sorrow,
trying to cover the pain,
the losses you suffer,
as you walk through
this wretched world,
this Hell on earth?
And I knew that moment
that I couldn’t make you walk alone,
couldn’t rightfully,
humanely,
make you walk this lonely road
which Fate had bound you,
cursed you
to walk all your life.
If nothing else, I could be
a friend to you,
someone you could run to,
talk to,
or hide behind if need be.
I wanted, though I loathed you still,
to comfort you,
to make you feel
less lost,
less alone in this
cruel world,
this torment we call life.
Please, let me help you! Forget the wrongs,
the words, the hurts,
the pain that I’ve inflicted.
Please, take my hand,
let me pull you to a place
where you can feel more at peace,
a place where you feel less pain than now.
Trust me!
That’s all I ask.
If I can save,
one soul from this darkness,
redeem just one soul,
my own soul will be at peace,
if I can just save you,
if you will take my hand,
and let me bring you back into light,
then my life won’t mean so little.
Please…
Please…
I’m on my knees before you…
Begging…
Please, let me save you…
Let me pull you back from the Hell you suffer…
Please.
This wretched soul asks only
to redeem the soul of another,
pleads only to free
this broken dove before me.
If you have any soul left to break,
then please…
Trust me.
Place with me
your cracked china heart.
So we may both soar high,
and fly freely into the light we deserve.
that I hated you.
You had that look,
that air about you,
as though the world was
your personal dollhouse,
and its people
your dolls.
You acted like the world was just
another play to perform,
to recite line after line
of those filthy lies that you call
the truth.
As though everyone should bow down
and kiss your filthy feet,
as though those who walked
through life with you
were just toys who soon
lost all value,
all worth.
God I hated that about you.
That stupid air of greatness,
that infuriating smirk,
that arrogant way you looked at everyone.
That way you looked at me.
I hated you so much,
partly because of your
holier-than-thou air,
but mostly because
of the way
you looked
at me,
as though I wasn’t there.
As though I wasn’t real.
And the way you looked at me,
as though I was the air,
filled my heart with fear
that you were right.
For even though I loathed you,
wished you’d just disappear, I felt
some connection,
like a tie,
to everything you said,
to every breath you took.
I could see the pain inside you,
where perhaps others
could not.
And despite my disgust in you,
my absolute detesting of you,
my heart began to fill
with pity,
and I was torn in two,
over a silly little Human
who meant nothing to me.
I hated you more than I hated me,
and yet, through that hatred,
my vision cleared,
as though the search for all your faults
had cleared my eyes of mist,
as a flashlight
clears the gloom.
My piercing, burning hatred
had cleared the fog of instinct,
of blind wariness,
and showed me things that I know
I would not have found alone.
I was torn until, at last, I was
compelled to do some research.
I pulled every file, every name,
every piece of history,
from the little information
I’d received on you.
And slowly, I began to place
each little piece into its spot on the picture,
until at last I’d made
a blueprint of your past.
And then my pity really swelled
as I read what you’d been through.
To be sealed to a permanent fate
to serve a lesser purpose,
to lose your father while still young,
to be betrayed by family,
to grow up
all alone,
not knowing what to do,
to thrive on hatred every day,
because that’s just
how lost
you were.
And, most dreadful yet,
to be Human in those times,
to be Human now, and still
suffer that horrid destiny,
that fate that had
defeated you,
to be forced to endure,
survive,
that wretched, painful past
with nothing but Human strength
to get you by –
I knew then, I’d
underestimated
a much stronger person than I had first
perceived you
to be.
I look back into your eyes,
hesitate a moment,
and wonder if you see in me,
a kindred soul,
a warming shelter
to ease your pain
unconditionally.
Is the way you look at me
not full of spite
or numbness?
Are those not the eyes of a cold,
unfeeling stone,
but instead the eyes
of a soul
lost in this world?
Are your eyes
like the dead ones in me,
cold, hopeless,
filled with pain,
and hardened with fear?
Are your eyes merely pools of sorrow,
trying to cover the pain,
the losses you suffer,
as you walk through
this wretched world,
this Hell on earth?
And I knew that moment
that I couldn’t make you walk alone,
couldn’t rightfully,
humanely,
make you walk this lonely road
which Fate had bound you,
cursed you
to walk all your life.
If nothing else, I could be
a friend to you,
someone you could run to,
talk to,
or hide behind if need be.
I wanted, though I loathed you still,
to comfort you,
to make you feel
less lost,
less alone in this
cruel world,
this torment we call life.
Please, let me help you! Forget the wrongs,
the words, the hurts,
the pain that I’ve inflicted.
Please, take my hand,
let me pull you to a place
where you can feel more at peace,
a place where you feel less pain than now.
Trust me!
That’s all I ask.
If I can save,
one soul from this darkness,
redeem just one soul,
my own soul will be at peace,
if I can just save you,
if you will take my hand,
and let me bring you back into light,
then my life won’t mean so little.
Please…
Please…
I’m on my knees before you…
Begging…
Please, let me save you…
Let me pull you back from the Hell you suffer…
Please.
This wretched soul asks only
to redeem the soul of another,
pleads only to free
this broken dove before me.
If you have any soul left to break,
then please…
Trust me.
Place with me
your cracked china heart.
So we may both soar high,
and fly freely into the light we deserve.