Blindness, Plans. Objectives, Aimlessness, Foresight

1.
i don't know, esteemed one, i don't know. the vision grows dimmer as the future darkens.
in objects of beauty we create, we invest our doomed affections, even as we die every day.
you said love will die as the body starves, that necessity triumphs over passion;
perhaps those already jaded with these games of hunger and power cannot love at all.
sometimes i see that bleak weariness glaze over the cheer in your eyes,
and i fear that same despair - that same monster that leers over each of us in waking nightmares
like some cancer, a parasite that consumes spirit and makes hollow shells of men.
how hollow can one become before completely crumbling into shards of uselessness?

2.
if i promise you, beloved one, if i promise you, yet wish to break all these chains that bind me here, as i would yearn for the recurring escape to pastures beyond -
will you be blinded by bitterness, hatred of my fallacy?
perhaps your love would lead to forgiveness, but
then i would deserve a lifetime of guilt and regret, to have hurt you beyond all the boundaries of patience, trust, understanding, support, and all the love you gave me
trampled upon by my awkward, over-reaching ambitions and wasted, like my youth, and yours.