The Woes of Love

The woes of love
How they ache like a broadsword pierced through my breast.
Damn this hook of longing on which you have me hung
Flailing, suspended above your unrequiting heart.
And yet you have no idea
No knowledge of the agony I suffer at your fingertips.
Your scent fills my nostrils, and my head spins.
Your deep, smooth voice flows around me, enveloping me
Burning away the flesh of my resolve
I crumble
Seeking desperately a release from your clutches
But that damned hook holds me steadfast in your merciless grasp
Tears mix with sweat mix with blood
The pain clouds my vision
I try to call to you, to alert you to the torture you are inflicting upon me
But my voice catches in my throat, and I choke
And you remain oblivious to your abuse.