Lost Love

Lost Love

O heavenly damsel sing,
a melted heart at but a flap of th'wing
O lovely dove!
Soul that lost hath yet found thee.
Sing! Sing for paradise is yet hollow
in the wake of th'blooming trail
shall the poor man follow.
'Tis but shameful shambles
does the wilted rose once stand,
upon the world that cruelly crumbles
On that poor lonely soul,
amidst a sea of thousand ghoul
this warrior wears
whips and thorns for rubies,
to an endless spar,
of broken treaties
that man and woman had once so far
paved the way for bashful bliss.
'Tis now asunder.
Something but amiss!
Alas, he might but wonder!
What hatred drives the fiery sun
which belies what his countenance would shun
this hateful world!
By Janus! A girl,
would so seemingly love
like myrtle,
Oh pitiful dove!
How th'heart aches at thee!
A thousand daggers thou'st cannot see,
for which love would a two way path
leave breath hanging in a frozen dream,
oh thou would'st not laugh.
You - virtuous maid as th'mind flees
from the world of lies - never would cease!
Pelting perpetuance,
this shattered realm of hopes and fears
can but drown thy sorrow in daily nuance.
Pray! this dove is not gone home,
this warrior will await
suffering suspense - but in chrome-
to hear you breathing,
and watch your smile while you are sleeping.
Though we hope for promising years
After shedding a thousand tears,
Yesterday's sorrow constantly nears.
And while the moon still shines blue,
By dawn, it will turn to scarlet hue.



-a poem created for a friend, and for all who fall under such a category