Promise

Absurd reality

You and I - we breathe a piece of sky,
As our blind eyes can finally see
The fragmented reality.

This cannot be a canvas anymore. Not anymore.
Not today. Not tomorrow. Not anymore.
Our art was short-lived, like waves 'pon the shore.

The distant lands holds a promise,
The maple leaves are red with a kiss,
The anxious mind grasps a doubtful bliss.

Shatter the lies, break the crass,
We'll make do with a few words written on a frosted glass,
We can delete the drama, and let the future become our Past.

Reviews

[Markus Anthony]

"Our story was short-lived like waves upon the shore" such a tear jerking line. You have reflected on your poem a reality of young love which is relatable on so many levels.

Forgive me but I'd like to be enlightened on the ending. "We can delete the drama, and let the future become our Past"

I figured that there's a sense of hope in the last stanza, and maybe they were able to mend and patch things on the sunken ship?

[Siddhartha Chatterjee]

You summed it up pretty nicely. Hope is a beautiful thing.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

A painful write as love disintegrates. Like the metaphors used in this one and the opening lines are a real draw. I am again troubled by some of the metre and the rhyming. I think free verse is often a good option for a writer who is desxcriptive.