You, a swan, glide amidst waters that shimmer in the sun,
your soft feathers waving in the slight breeze that blows across the trees.
With eyes full of the past, you silently observe and protect those you love,
and with the arching neck, you display your superior grace.
Ducks have gathered to talk and share secrets,
but you stay back. Wary and judgemental to the extreme.
You have no patience for immaturity or talk of that matter,
and you cannot find a place of your own.
You had your time of extravagant gaiety! You sung with your heart!
Your two shapes of grace were always one. Don't fool about,
you miss her and now your love cannot flare anymore.
Yes! You were always one with her...
you swum, you sung, you shared the starlit skies.
You were alone and your passion was empty like autumn trees.
But she smiled and your soul seared with such abject desire!
Your loneliness was healed. Your heart was now whole.
Those days were your prime! Those days were your saviour!
You never thought that it would end.
But fate was cruel, merciless. It wounded you beyond belief.
She was gone.
Gone.
And you never knew why. You never knew why she left.
The days of despair were dawning and you drifted from her.
You were no longer one, but two lovesick creatures.
Before you could repent, she was gone. It was too late.
One single shot.
And your heart was lost forever.
Now you sing. Sing with such heartbreaking despair.
Your eyes are hollow and hold such distress and emptiness.
Your heart is a withered leaf.
Your passion is a frost bitten berry.
Those eyes of yours will never blaze once more.
Your are alone. And the ducks laugh at your agony.
You are cold. Colder than winter. Some think you don't care.
But that is their folly. They are are fools. They are blind.
You know your downfall. You are too loyal.
You are too trusting. You let yourself fall into naive thoughts.
You were in an orgy of headfirst love.
You were always there for her. She may have found it extreme.
Those ducks are wrong. They cannot see past their own beaks.
You do care. You care too much.
You were alone. You found love.
Love abandoned you. You have fallen into a harsh winter
and ice bites at you whilst despair drives you insane.
You are the lone swan.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry and Lamentations
PoetrySome poems about nature and serene landscapes. I would call it an anthology. However, some poems are Lamentations so therefore, may be quite despairing and upsetting.