• R. E. Maynard

The Lascivious Foolery of a Dreadful love Affair Ruins No Confident Hearts

One’s desires lessened a chance at heartache, a man found out too well the toils of a broken heart. His deceptive ways left a long trail of disloyalties, and as long as his lies suited the foul sensibilities of a damn fool—his abuses kept demanding a right for her trusted heart.

“Damn, you. No one shall ever spare your heartbeat from my grasp,” he scowled. He spoke to the darkness of a midnight sky. Stars stared back in light of his darkened soul.

He knew that no greater purpose shall delight the betterment of a soul on fire, and as a lover learned to admire the enjoyments profanely lustful of one’s true nature—a harsh reality grew a targeted intent within his now regretful heart.

The Lascivious Foolery of a Dreadful love Affair Ruins No Confident Hearts

Lent to a monumental role for love’s most dishonest measures, while willfully—he persuaded her ability to feel a soul wholehearted, even though her disparities for faithfulness harbored emotions spent and lost.

“Goodbye, I deserve a love committed to my heart’s desires,” she angrily explained.

The prideful pleasures alluring attraction to a man about town did foretell a hurtful tale of his disloyalties, while the dubious qualities that failed a lover’s dreams are destined for his unwarranted hostilities. She forgave and bowed at his presence.

Discoveries true to the discoursing passions entertained through the lessons of a desperate amount of foolery that she bore, thought as beautifully insightful to a human’s hopes and dreams grew as unfashionable choices harboring disguised absurdity. His conscience weighed no dishonor for ill passions felt.

Blinded to the love of a kinder soul, as weighing introductions to unfaithfulness charged a displeasured experience ever dangerously heightened by her curiosity—he grew numb to her lack of resistance. He was a man of gamesmanship and a poor reputation.

An honest lady’s naïveté typically lent to the support of a most curious romantic fantasy, as she searched a heart’s weakened prophecy to remain timelessly relevant to her adorned. She sought forgetfulness to leave a life once known behind her—guided by a virtue for righteousness and her bruised compassion still beating a founded heart. Her head spun atop a broken soul.

Destiny had a course of direction—fearful at best, as love portrayed neither confidence to inspire a greater regard for oneself, nor for a change in his wicked demeanor that she hoped would inspire feelings ever true. Though her ignorance defeated the purpose of a relationship lasciviously dreadful to a damaged dream, a life that left her in a realm of revengeful strife–now, seemed to weigh a different dream. He was now a man who enjoyed the idea that he had taken control of her wayward life.

"I rule this heart." She Vowed. The potency of his poison tasted foul on her bitter tongue for far too long. "He had no right to own my truthful consideration for my life of love," she devoted loudly to a higher power. "God is good!" She praised.

O’ how her deserving soul lived worthy of a world of now victorious rewards. Still, her kind heart sought a future of love ever true to a soulful journey. A soul worthy of happiness wielded her new founded power to inspire greater expectations for living within a peaceful serenity founded from such a discovered life. Looking deep within his heart’s desires—she had now found her way.

He sunk into a slummed state of despair, now that she led a new life without his admiration’s forcing his ado. A time of playing reached an end to his now meaningless existence.

— R. E. Maynard

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