Dreams Turned into Ashes
There are many painful pitfalls to happiness,
and no one is immune to misery's tragic tune.
We cry in the night like a wolf baying at the moon,
sullen, soulful songs of heartbreak and despair,
drifting upon air. Of those memories; beware.
My emotions may seem as dormant as a volcano~
Silent but molten, setting fire to my dreams.
In ashes they lie, beyond the reach of my heart.
I try to write the plight of my life, but the light
turns dark, leaving me with tormented thoughts.
Expressing the bane of lost love in poetic refrain
is a rueful score of what once was but is no more.
I've written hundreds of poems of being smitten.
Bitten and wounded by Cupid's arrow, was I.
How I wish he'd missed his target, and yet,
never would I have known love's tender touch
or the gentle caresses as he stroked my tresses,
nor the taste of his lips sealing love's vow.
My protective muse refuses to let me forget
the memories of romance, the good and bittersweet,
so, I continue to write although I stumble,
suffering while penning another grief-stricken Sonnet.
Then more, still more, I write in lamenting encore,
a sequence of denouements that will tear me apart
each time I write and lay bare my wounded heart.
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