…you do not know love

Yearning to possess, the emptiness of the flesh
what I left behind, your eyes deceived me
twilight shadows in my heart, just waiting to fall
you do not know love, not the selfless kind
given without expectations
you are always admiring your own reflection
what you see in the mirror, is just a disguise
unable to banish the lies in your eyes
the truth is not hidden beneath your many masks
you are the man with a thousand faces
unaware that your nature shows itself
for a reflection has no secrets
you are always shifting
in the shallow waters of your existence
between reality and illusion, the thin line that you walk
between avarice and true desire
holding the strings of my heart between your fingers
you do not know love, the kind that a mother
instinctively bestows upon her children
the kind where a person gives the gift of light
letting it settle freely upon the darkness of others
even if their own flames fade to embers in the giving
you do not know love, the kind that in the absence of plenty
some will freely give, with no thoughts of consequences to self
no thought for their own lack
you do not know love, the unselfish acts, a natural human impulse
arising from the deep wells of empathy, ancient wells
that cannot be found on any map, if one should seek them
you do not know love, you have not visited the ancient wells
for they lie mysterious and silent
in the dark depths and the far reaches of the soul
far from the seas of selfishness and greed
far from the rivers of excess and moral decay
endlessly replenished by each selfless act
each act of love enacted for no other reason than love
you do not know love, for your wells are dark and ever empty
you inflicted the deepest of wounds, I needed more time to bloom
left in the shadows, hands on the mirror
listening to my own thoughts tapping on the glass
© Ann Bagnall