I no longer count the Ways.

I no longer count The Ways.
_____________________

I no longer count the ways my Love,
but wait impatiently, with a heart driven
by reckless abandon.
Cursing the stars above, which seem like
jewels to everyone else.
(but strike me more as taunting Phantoms.)

I remember how things were simpler.
When the monotony of these passing days
were graciously seen as Sacred Routines;
I was different then, as A Beginner,
before Love became My Blasphemy!

God must surely (if nothing else) have an
extraordinary sense of cynical humor;
to create such a Thing as I.
Human Cancer, with A Heart full of Tumors!
(destined to live indefinitely then Die.)

So I no longer count the ways my love,
but wait impatiently for my End.
Cursing the taunting Phantoms above!
(inviting Death, my Friend.)

J.S.H.