Love Lost

A musing on what I once had, perhaps. On blame, on love, on shame, on life. Can we truly take responsibility for our actions and our foibles?

It's been too long my friend,

since we last danced, or sang,

those halting songs of sorrow.

Do you remember, days gone,

past and present, future fades?

We walk with giants, gods,

and glorious ones. We stride,

like conquering heroes, aye.

We laugh, we live, we lapse.

 

You know what once was true,

the bitter days of me and you,

lies beneath our skin, lips drip,

poison platitudes and part the,

senses. Opening our eyes to see,

without seeing, without light.

Sometimes I miss those days,

a simple slip in sanity, I think,

and you'd agree, just too quick.

 

Where does that leave us then?

Too many questions to sort,

through or to think on,

pondering our past positions,

reminiscing over old wounds,

old loves and lovers, all confound.

I used to think the dream was you,

heaven just out of reach, so near,

so far; function falling, failing.

 

Did I fail you? I think not,

don't think of it, rather?

Was it you, or your desires,

despairing over differences?

Could I have fixed it, saved us,

fought for our survival? Maybe.

We convince ourselves, I think,

of little victories, small triumphs,

miniscule perfections. Don't we?

 

Don't we need the reassurance,

of knowing that we're not to blame?

Of knowing it was fates fickle nature,

cruel heavens capricious hand. Lover,

I hold my own regrets, my fatal flaws,

close to my chest, our own dark tarot,

deal a hand, choose a fate. Reflect.

It's not your fault, not really, not ever.

I just wish, pray, we had a chance.

Reviews

[StoryTailor]

Very touching. Very good. I like it.