Incomplete

You call to me,
but couldn't see
my empty arms
and empty smile,
a vicious cycle left behind.
And you dissappeared.
My selfish gaze and selfless
praise
left behind in a mind
completely dazed.
If I could leave you,
would you stay?
What would you say?
A standing Grendel
in human form.
Misunderstood? No
but still to be scorned.
Will someone come
and please slay me?
Take the role of Beowulf
and rid the world.
The cruel defeat.
A malignant me.
Too sinister to smile
but still standing at the foot of town
and swallowing
your guile.
You call to me,
a dead body.
Slain, still scorned
but rid of the world
And fix upon the gruesome life
A look, disgusted and dispared,
but inside you understand.
The joy of gone.

1/11/09
8:58 a.m.