I felt I was a good person when I met you.
I can't find that person anymore.
Perhaps "good" only comes with naivety
And knowledge is the theft of that innocence...

I cannot mourn my loss of it.
self pity must be something that lives in the heart of childlike ways.
And the child in me is passed now
And rests in some unmarked grave.

This is not to say that evil has come to claim me.
It is said that there can be no Satan without God
And God is dead now,
Within me where his temple crumbles...

Nor can I pass blame upon you.
You were only the last soldier to strike in the battle that defeated me.
That I WAS defeated, is only evidence that my strength of self was lacking,
Which is surely my crime and none of your own...

But if you were to search for me someday;
I don't believe that you would find me.
I have become someone else, since I met you.
And that change is now my only reflection.

Who I was is dead, with good reason.
Who I am is not reasonably good.
But if I have gone mad, it is with a righteous anger.

(With a nod to Kahlil Gibran).

"Within me where his temple crumbles..."
"But if I have gone mad, it is with a righteous anger."

Terrific.
This is beautiful.

Great write, and so full of short takings that speak mountains...Nice

Thank you both.

Very nice "prosetry".

An inner child hung out to dry in the arid squalls of unholy rapport

May the moist winds of empathy send you a rainbow of love.

http://users.csonline.net/designer/ideas/rainbow.mp3

I always love your poems.

Thank you. I loved the song you sent. It's beautiful.

Thanks Calleigh.