Life slides away,
Anyway,
And so do
The loveless days
Of far fetched dreams
Never retrieved.
Love, so far away,
Was never to be found
Never, would it be
Embraced,
By destiny,
Life scantily lived,
Hardly received
Insufficiently,
Achieved,
For without love
We are nothing,
A fallen, Autumn leaf,
That has committed
Suicide,
Out of Wintery grief.
So many things,That don’t come back,All effort gone,In Life itself,As Time slides off,A hidden shelf,And all’s not well,In Fairyland,For those who,In a poem dwell,Thinking that time,Can be pulled back,And will some how,Forget to act.
Thrives in Poet’s heart,Comes from secret spark.
Admired and desired,The artist seeks his placeIn a World so cold and uninspiredIt’s a slow and difficult raceDisorientation,Is generally the bitter case.
Kindness has no price,It can’t be bought or soldEven obliged.It’s done,Without us thinkingTwice,An act so fullOf natural tide,All moving oceans,It does compromise.
Now,Will you be faithfulTo me,Oh, Love of my Life,How will we balanceEach other?Without evenKnowing one another,That’s whyI love to write,I think that is whereAnswers, to so manyMysteries, daringly,Lie.
Big broken heart,There is nothing,Sadder than that.All it wanted was loveBut it was denied,Even that,So they were to find him,Gone,Drowned,In his own tearsMentally strangled,By the loveHe never found,By the love,He never had.
