Kismet From Chaos

He writes of the lie of love

The myth of true unity

But there
Out of the clouded memories of time
He spies something

Someone

From within his Shades
He trembles
Knowing her for what she is

The lie to his lie

For the Shades knew what he would deny
She is his

More pointedly
He is hers

This is no lie
No mere tremulous passing wave of time

This is truth
An awareness of self
Made inadequate by the absence of she

His Shades roll back into the shadows
A weakening fog bank of façades
Revealing memories of gentler times
A smile of contentment

So now he writes
Of longing
Nervous trembling
Drowning in her eyes once more
The joy of making her smile

Of being true

To being one

© 2010, Mosquitobyte