Torn Pages of Love

It wasn't love at first sight, or so I believed,

Perhaps circumstances spun a tale of forced affection,

Or was it merely a need to quiet her restless mind?

Now, in retrospection, it was actually a disdain at first sight,

Or perhaps a pang of jealousy toward another baby.

But tales weave it as a lighthearted anecdote,

A story of a child unaware of life's essences,

Unversed in recognizing virtue.

Or at least, that's what I or everyone once believed.

Your coerced affection must have carved wounds deeply,

Yet I, earnestly, poured forth genuine affection.

I revered you, my elder, with starry-eyed admiration,

Embracing your counsel, celebrating your triumphs.

Alas, the revelation came belatedly,

It was pretense, or perhaps the timing was amiss.

We were the envy of our peers,

A love seemingly pristine and enviable.

Yet, it all dissolved into mere history,

A chronicle of remorse for a union that appeared

Until the veil of love was lifted,

Revealing your orchestration against me,

Our owns turned against my very being,

They say, goodness begets goodness.

Now, time has laid bare that love was never present.

The book of our bond has been rent asunder,

I tried to mend its torn pages with tape and glue,

Clutching hope, praying time would heal this aged tome.

But every moment only rends it further apart.

Can it be restored?

Perhaps not,

For I've finally let go.