which begs the question

i cannot ask it.
not now, for fear of the lifeless eternity i suffer.
not yet. i would will the fear of god into me,
to feel such things as you have.
this immortal lesson we have taught,
it has rendered our smiles far less vivid than i remember.

for there was a day-
there must have been, else my damnation has led me astray -
and i remember the lilies upon the path,
and the field in which you played.
but i spent those days hunting my fortune,
and only now i realize that the game we eat is our own, lost love.

love.
the tales have given me horns,
a tale,
boils,
a limp...
all that the pupils may think. for that is the curse.
and yet i will ask the question for you, one day.