Futile

futile 2

Futile was the night,
that you came to me,
futile was that time,
the time that I could not save you,
from your insanity,
futile,
and though you tried to smile,
there was such pain behind your eyes,
an oceans worth of pain,
an ocean of tears I did surmise,
yes, futile was the night,
that we sat together by the fire,
with our glasses of wine,
and your heart it was filled with unhappinness,
and you,
you talked to me about it all,
and you described your unhappy relationship,
and you explained why it was that way,
and you explained,
that he was vicious and rude and crude,
and not sensitive at all,
and you, you initially fell for his looks,
and he wined and dined and charmed you by buying you gifts,
and you were for a moment happy until reality began to hit,
because then came the drinking and the belittling and the abuse,
of which he would not quit,
and that night you reached out to me to comfort you,
and I did,
and we kissed,
we kissed,
and we cuddled and we embraced,
and we gave in to our desires,
and we had our fun by the fire,
but no pain,
no pain in the end was erased,
and though we talked the rest of the night,
you ran back to him,
and at the time I felt like a fool,
but at least,
at least to make you see sense I had tried,
but sadly sense never entered your brain,
and you,
he beat you to pulp,
and you came to an early demise,
and oh, the pain,
the pain,
and the guilt and the shame,
the shame that I could not save you,
the shame that I will always carry inside.

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