The Cycle

Sometimes entwined with her sable curls 
or entranced as the silhouette unfurls 
pointing to the gleam in her eye 
chasing the scent as the time flies by 
and then, in the mind, despair swirls 
stupid queries to the self it hurls 
on its behest the throat rendered dry 
frustration aggravating with every try 
and so, into dejection, the being curls 
gradually the curtain of depression unfurls 
beauteous wonders all squalid to the eye 
desire for her diminishing by and by 
finally, the smoke of hatred soars and swirls 
loud adjectives to her glory the mouth hurls 
the twisted joy of cursing lets the tears dry 
and eventually, you are again ready to try