A Poet’s View Of A Lost Lover.

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A Poet’s View Of A Lost Lover.

Evade he cannot from the sunshine spreading,
And like a vampire away into darkness he ran,
Nightingales their last rituals they sang,
And the moon behind the curtains of day slept.

Warmth of the sun rays spring morn fought,
Fog like tap dancers up and down danced,
Ah’ the wonders of nature any poet can write,
The magnificence of the feelings so hard to express.
Yet, from the darkest corners the blooming morning glory he watched.

Silence he hated, darkness he hated, hiding he hated,
Oh’ all that he hated in his life, adored his life,
Melancholy gave rhythm to the tunes from his heart came,
And away with fog his dreams vanished.

Pain the poet can write, sadness the poet can write,
Ah’ the glory of love the poet can write,
What will he do when love is beyond sadness and pain?
Light he don’t want, sound he don’t want,
Scent of anything he don’t want,
And to touch even the Earth he walked permission to God he asked.
For he felt, without her love nothing else on Earth he deserved,
In darkness his senses he shut,
Oh’ the way he found to deal with the haunting pain.

Even when age, time and naughty nature from all around gnawed,
Still the spark in his eyes can be seen,
The spark even in the darkest part of the dark glowed,
The spark that glittered her face again and again filling his soul.

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