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Love's frail demeanor

By Mahtab Bijandgoodarz
April 23, 2002
The Iranian

Amidst the abysmal plains of solitude I roam,
edging off of the meek periphery of desolation.

I flee from this forlorn existence
and yet, I find grief beckoning me still;
the seductress of all
who so foolishly forsook their souls

How loyal you are grief!
unwaveringly forgive you my transgressions
(you offer a twig of absolution
to brush the dust off of my weary dire soul)
embracing me with your motherly grace;

the tender comfort of your warmth
is my eternal refuge from the putrid illusions of love and mirth.

how shamelessly I let indulgence my master be.

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