My heart is pounding—set in overdrive
as thoughts of love corrode me from inside;
and so I hide away in hopes my knight
shall never find the truth.
I step beyond the darkness where I wage
a war against myself.
I can't be saved–
my heart is petrified and I am made
of nothing — nothing — still I turn and face
the world as though I'm whole, all while I nurse
a fear so great that there exists no church
that can absolve my soul.
I am no worse
for wear, though love will never be my purse;
my heart is lost to love.
There's no way back–
I have no choice except to live with that.
Inspiration for this piece: A prompt set forth by dVerse Poets Pub:
"Today, I’d like to challenge the dVerse community to play bout rimés with the following set of rhymes, which are taken from a sonnet by a contemporary poet:
drive, side, night, lied, wage, saved,made, face, nurse, church, worse,purse, back, that."
I did my best to adhere to the sonnets iambic pentameter, but I've never really been fond of writing in strict meter...so I cannot guarantee I managed it.
In the end, I have no idea if this piece makes sense or expresses the title as well as I wish, but it feels (frustratingly) good to write something more than what I've been able to conjure up as of late.