He is in pain ...

He is in pain. Hidden deep

for outside eyes
must not see.
The sordid affair being carried on
behind backs and before questioning eyes,
who would wish to desecrate
this beautiful relationship.

Two souls otherwise committed, continue
to hurt. True love is the trophy
being shared and commemorated.
A continuos joy, escapes when this pair
parade into the room. One cannot miss
the majestic feel of two halves
made whole.

She, his Venus of visions.
Tied to a man who controls and manipulates.
Bringing her down, to the valley of woe-is-me,
to prance upon her graveside with his forked tongue
of deaths toll reaping.

He, her Adonis of salvation.
Separated from a woman with an uneven kilter.
Who tries to draw him into her web
of whatever shall I do's. Not strong in spirit or mind.
She weaves her spell of sporous spikes
to suck him dry to reap her just rewards.

How long can they hold out
against the onslaught of rough currents,
that keeps one queasy from the onslaught
of treacherous waves hitting
from every direction?

How long, before his misery turns tide
and I see my best friend
washed away, pulled into the undertow
of no return?