Melancholy (Poetry)

Maybe Time Has Finally Out Played Me

The picture took me from a paradise we
captured. The eyes I spoke of once, lost now.
The arms and hands that burn when we agree,
they turned at last to tears. The vain of vow

disdain the lovely face of hidden light.
The song you spoke about her, now is spoke
about me. Marked in fragile bark of bright
and swinging trees, in crystal. Morning smokes

and half my days, in this dark world recalling
you almost weren’t mine. I may be stuck.
I’ve seen the face of death and life sprawling
around, the beauty we create unstuck.

I’ve got it all figured out in my mind
but reality is still lacking behind.

L.G