Stephen Livesey Ashworth

What face is this that haunts my waking dreams?
What woman’s warmth and softness burn and lacerate
My jangled nerves, until it seems
The world is all ablaze with hopelessness?
What loving lips have sprouted vampire fangs
That hour by hour drain my days of joy,
Rob my solitary nights of thanks
And leave behind an all-consuming void?
What siren-angel eyes that lured my ship
Towards the scented haven of your bed
Have fallen into permanent eclipse,
All mutual trust and understanding dead?

You made my life complete for just one date –
How could I guess your love was stained with hate?

14 July 2008