Sundered
A woman's love, so soft and enveloping,
the dearest balm, the cherished bond;
fruitless for so long I searched,
for affection and companionship;
and she was the answer in the dark.
My heart returned, my purpose reborn,
I was the finished man;
my pursuit complete, I could rest in her light -
happy upon her smile,
joyful upon her laugh,
blessed to gaze into her eyes.
But earthly heaven cannot long last,
nor hardship be appeased;
one cannot remain ensorcelled by the angels
and hope to escape unscathed.
The fire dimmed, the light receded,
and only suffering glowed;
the loneliness now cast down upon me
a greater burden than ever before -
greater than I've proven able to bear.
All memories of her, of the way she was,
the things and feelings she caused,
linger, taunting and tormenting;
every one a portal, a mirror to our past -
vivid as the day they were upon me.
The memory of when my eyes first fell upon her
instantly, swifter than even thought allows,
hurtles me back, brings everything to my mind;
I recall my nervousness, the magic,
her elegance.
I stumble to the window and stare out
upon the spot where we first kissed,
out in the pouring rain;
I watch, again and again, as my life passes me by.
I watch as the whole world crumbles
to dust and ash, forgotten remnants
of a love gone awry.
My cheeks stain, yet once more,
with those carriers of grief and mourning
that trace their way out of my trembling eyes;
their tracks forever stain my cheeks,
their sorrow forever stains my soul.
I fear the faint, far-off sounds of movement,
not wanting to be seen;
but nay, I think, let them chance upon me,
and see the depths where I now dwell;
let them see me for who I am.
For I am become sundered.
I wipe the teardrops off the floor;
I stare into my own eyes, in a mirror,
and I don't recognize the being within;
I take a sharp breath and wonder,
ever, will it ever end.
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