With a saddened heart,
I peer through this blistering light.
For behind the wilting willow tree,
my weakness has exceeded my might.
So here my mirth is seated,
on the grounds of this grassy field.
And to the expression of my peers,
I all but will myself to yield.
For it is not in myself,
to stack my thoughts on a shelf.
But it is still in myself,
to stack my heart on the shelf.
For I am a beloved dreamer,
and an open-minded believer.
For I am but just a yearner,
much your first wicked learner.
For I am the apple of your eyes,
whom you had left for dreams and cries.
For I am your forgotten,
who had once been your one begotten.
For as the tocsin of love hails,
I am accustomed to all the sinful wails.
As I replay the moments of our love,
in witness to the skies above.
For your hand I have never let go,
even though you be the reason for all my woe.
For heartbreak is in your veins,
and I do not know when it invaded mine.
But now this has brought down a sign,
a sign that I must do away with this wicked time.
So let us cry and scream and pray;
let us bow to end this little unrequited play.
YOU ARE READING
Poesy of Eloquence
Poetry❝ this tragedy is soaked with tears that dry the ink in my hands. ❞ ━ the poesy I've yearned to release ever since I taught myself to pick up the pen and write. ❝ for if the painting of my words be the garden upon the gate of heaven, glimpse them...
