Your love is a farce

That flies in the the face of facts.
Of your love I shall have none.
In your heart I aint no one.
So let me go,
Go, go, go
Go haunt those countries of defeats,
Go lick these wounds you never deign to treat.
Go lay me down
Gently, gently,
On that mythical shore
Where the embrace of your perpetual promise
Cannot stifle a reckoning of Nevermore.