The Veil

Your stolen vanity cannot cover a truth
of which you deceive yourself by youth.
And hope cannot comfort your grief
without another's undying belief.
Impatience has become you for it all,
yet for what and why I cannot recall.
Forgotten by choice is your purpose,
a content within you, but not for us.
Your rotted core, now for which I adore,
yet still, you yearn and lust for more.
You uncover the veil and strip the gown
to urges of jealousy to which I am bound.