Ramparts of you II

I weep now,

your spell lay broken

lapping at my feet

stinging like the salt of the ocean

A wall, 

you were the wall, my wall

You loomed vast and unscaleable;

        my audience, 

        my subject, 

        my friend.

I laid a hand on your cheek,

At a touch, 

         you crumbled;

         Love is your undoing

         Love that isn't mine

         Love ungraspable by me.

So I stood upon this ruin,

The ramparts I built

My shelter from you, now a skeleton

A relic of old; 

          Ever-unrequited

          Ever-loving

          Ever-longing.

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The irony of this poem is not lost on me. Instead, I am slightly relieved by it.
Part I