A Hateful Prize

I ache for her,

Yearn for her presence,

I try to find her,

Try to want to find her.

My heart and my pride

Are killing me slowly,

A battle for salvation.

A battle lost.

The memories,

Of everything I did wrong,

The knowledge,

Of how to fix them.

All wasted on one

Too stubborn to yield to any heartfelt desire.

They say Pride will be the death of me,

How wrong they are.

It has become the one thing that keeps me living.

The one disastrous prize of a prideful heart.