The Tyranny of his return – By Krystle Maharaj

In twilight’s hush, when memory’s embers glow,
He came as once he did in gentler years,
With honeyed breath and vows I thought I knew,
And stirred anew the well of buried tears,
His spectre was as powerful as the destructiveness of our love.

Full oft I swore mine heart had turned to stone,
That time had sealed the wounds his hand had wrought;
Yet at his voice, those fragile walls were dust,
And all my hard – won peace was set at naught,
His spectre was as powerful as the destructiveness of our love.

He wore the selfsame smile that once betrayed,
A phantom clothed in flesh I could not flee;
For though his form was warm against the night,
’Twas but the ghost of what we used to be,
His spectre was as powerful as the destructiveness of our love.

And though I marked his words as oft rehearsed,
A cycle worn no vow could e’er improve,
For in his breast no seed of change takes root,
Yet still his will my trembling soul can move,
His spectre was as powerful as the destructiveness of our love.

Now sorrow walks beside me as before,
A faithful shade that clings where’er I rove;
For love once cursed returns not sweet but grim,
And binds the soul no less than chains I can’t remove,
His spectre was as powerful as the destructiveness of our love.