To Have loved

To Have loved and lost
Or not to have loved.
The Shakespearean dilemma
at its crux, becomes
the unanswerable ringing
of the tolling bell, tolling
for the death of love.
Offering not a tone of resolution.
The roses are weeping
the Fairyland  has suffocated,
no one can believe
because faith has grown too
expensive and truth
has become arbitrary.
So What does a soul
make of it?
The dripping eyes, the flames
of stone.
The breathing idols of living
misunderstandings
all written in a spider web
language of delicate
rage and virtual
reality that is in fact
insanity.
No answers.
No Solution.
No Homozygous
of explanation.
Only the gliding, shimmering
shadow's that provide no
mask sufficient to hide
from the heart. . .