If you are reading this, then somehow you,
my love, have broken through my fortress wall.
I never once thought someone would pursue
this heart of mine. Yet here you stand enthralled
and I am at a loss to understand
how someone -- anyone -- could ever fall
for me. Yet here you are with heart in hand.
I would have thought by now I'd have deterred
your interest. So now I must demand
you turn and walk away without a word
just hand me back these pages -- leave before
you dig inside my soul where pain's interred.
You've reached the point of no return; explore
beyond this line and risk destroying me.
Still here -- *sigh* -- foolish man, I so adore.
A note on form: On Thursday, dVerse Poets Pub FormForAll threw out a challenge--to write a terza rima. Six syllables shy of completing the third stanza I crashed. Instead I turned the pages of my notebook and toyed with a sevenling. But I found my way back last night ending off the stanza and adding one, before turning out the lights. This afternoon, I tacked on the last stanza and rounded off this piece.
Inspiration for this piece: I stole inspiration from a series that I had hoped to write, but never made it passed letter #2. The series was called Letters from D. Prest. I decided to maintain the title of the first letter, which is roughly what this piece is based off of. I am aware in doing so I leave this open for additional pieces, but after getting sucked into ten acts of a ballad after a similar challenge, I'm not sure I'm naive enough to allow myself to be tortured by another frustrating form.