The world is a cruel place

The foolish lovers give their heart and soul
Keeping faith that theirs be a fairytale
How cruel the world is
To twist the dreams of fantasy
Into haunting nightmares

Through fate or circumstance
Or a straying touch
Sometimes a meaningless word
Or a misread heart
A pain inflicted of torment infinite
By a casual hand
Cruelest of actions
Carried out by a gentle lamb

A fair face hides the hand
Of darkest sorrow and deepest pain
Heaven forfend
Such indifferent acts
Such thoughtless pacts
Should break the hearts of mortal men
Of love, it dies
Of hope, it sleeps
Of faith, it abandons
A pronouncement of suffering

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This was written by one of my compatriots. Doesn't it ring true? With every stroke of the brush, it paints such a surreal picture of pain and of being betrayed and let down. The feeling of utter hopelessness, the helplessness of the narrator screams out to the reader.

How such "thoughtless pacts" really "breaks the hearts of mortal men". Pacts made in solemnity, pacts broken just as easily. I know, this I surely know.

"Of love, it dies." Oh, surely, it more than dies. Dying once wouldn't even be the beginning of it.

"Of hope, it sleeps." Sleep it does, and it does more than sleeps. It curls up in a foetal position, once bitten twice shy and to protect itself, it fends off with a blanket of damned lies.

"Of faith it abandons." Abandoned, and for faith thrown out, Venus* it embraces with passion.

"A pronouncement of suffering." Indeed.

A death sentence for thee.

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(*Venus- for those readers in the dark, please check out the mythological meanings of Venus and what she stands for.)