The paramour felt a seething pain at high noon
that came from a night of the phantom moon
to give him a stab in the heart of compassion.
Nerves flailed and his face riddled confusion.
A stir in the mirror took a dark stance
that looked like an ardor in a trance
with a spasm of sweet romance;
It ended up in an involuntary twitchy dance.
When he found his mangled alter ego
to salvaged his figure astride the amigo;
he stares aghast at the self-loathe
coming from an unholy love lost in a gulf.
Her love caught between crossfires of doubt
and a mirky mind that is about to be blown-out
We heard a knell sound dimly in the blackout
It reverberate as it dissolved into the twilight.
Love rides the chill of fright and trite