And What A Tragedy It Would Be If I Lay Among the Dead Men

I wish I'd never had the taste of his name in my mouth. I certainly think it's time for a formal goodbye. My heart beats, but I'm no longer aware of such a tragedy. And yet what a worthless prayer it would be (and selfish, too perhaps) to ask my heart to stop tapping in its rhythmic pattern, for if my heart should stop it would be likely to say that I am dead.

And what a tragedy it would encounter if I lay dead among the worst of men. They whisper to me, "Why, my dear, you're quite too beautiful to be in such a place. Whatever lead you here?" And with all my hearts contempt, I shall try not to comply and answer, yet by my best judgment, I whisper back, "Why, my dear misguided man," (lest I come up with another name, worse perhaps, yet that describes this man further), I reply, "it was the argument of love (in which I have lost myself) that brought me here."

So, I wish not that my heart stops beating, but yet that I stop breathing -
"Oh, but on the contrary my dear! That too would land you here," the poor misguided man reminded me.
So, I wish not that my heart stops beating, but that the world stops turning - if only for a moment - so I can draw near to your heart, once again, but without you knowing this time. "Shhhh," I whisper to my new found friend (the misguided man), "shall the world stop turning for one single moment I should simply take his heart and run, like he did in the midst of mine, unknowing." (Which I must say, quiet angered me, for I did not know it happened til I found how much it hurt to breathe without you).

----

I had just met this misguided man (my new found friend) only moments before in the midst of wanting my heart to stop it's ridiculous rhythmic pattern that was then driving me nuts. I had just met this misguided man, when I realized what a complaint I had put up to him, without the slightest knowledge of who he was. Thus, I turn to my new comrade in the air of something pristine:
"Why, oh why!" I sigh heavily, shaking my heavy heart in turn.
"Why what, my love? Why does the world still turn, whether you see it fit to or not; it shall always be this way, and hunny, let me tell you: there's nothing worse than breathing when you don't feel you can."

----

And so, the beating of our hearts are no more; the touch of your skin is now foreign to my embrace. What to say? when the humming of our frequencies (which once clashed so well) is too low to hear?

I contemplated this for quite some time. It is as if the chemicals which once were pleasurable together (Hydrogen twice over and Oxygen, which I would likely use to describe us) became gaseous and vaporized, spreading the small and large parts, that were us, apart. I contemplated more and slowly stood up, knowing I must go soon. I felt much better, now that I could breathe again. And as soon as I shook the poor misguided man's hand, I simply asked (more out of politeness than at all), "What is your name, poor soul and friend? It was such a pleasure, though I realize I just complained, to meet your acquaintance and have the pleasure of experiencing a fresh taste of air."

He only shook his gorgeous face into a half-smile and replied, "you're quite right, my dear. I'm nothing but a misguided man; a poor soul."
And I awoke.
With that indication, I abruptly realized that He was certainly no misguided man. (Must I spell it our for you? Can't you see, he was) but the knight in shining armor of us all.

----

I wish Id never had the taste of his name in my mouth. Its time for a formal goodbye. My heart beats once again, from the help of one misguided man that stood there all along, unknowingly. What a tragedy it would have been, had my heart stopped it's beautiful rhythmic pattern, for if it had, I was likely to be a dead man among the worst and the best, the best and the worst. May they whisper forever in my ear as I lean more to being able to open my heart again, and may they forever whisper in my heart as I learn that I'll forever have the misguided man.

What a tragedy it would be, oh indeed, if I lay among the dead men.