She wavers a while
Knows she should stand guard
Has felt the pain before
But she has a Rival
Passion is not her friend
He descends in Don Juan style
Sweeps her out the door
Yesterday’s dust that had settled
Residue of ashes from old fires
Caught off guard in the moment
She savoured its forbidden taste
Intoxicated by its delirious fragrance
She faints again and again
There are no smelling salts
To revive her back to sanity
Once more the fool
When the music plays again
A piped tune, she’d follow to the end
Into the abyss of regrets
Where guilt bites hard, a rabid dog
Infecting her with madness
Until the face in the mirror
Becomes a stranger
Lost to who she thought she was
Passion has his way with her
Even when she tried to say no
It was merely a whimper
He chose not to hear
Because her actions spoke
Much louder than her words
Reason would find her once again
In the drunken gutters
When the party had ended.
Chevvy's diary 