A lost love story

If i was a words smith,
I would paint her countenance a million smiles.
Each for every bliss unshared.

If i had a blessed hand at art,
I would describe her on canvas and walls.
The color magic of a dawn.
The enchantment of a crepuscular.

Pity I tell words in past tense
Lacking of essence.
Happy for an understated verb.
For a craft framed with love,
A gift to a naive heart;
Oblivious of compassion.

Its a whole world she opened,
Breathed of tender and care

An aura of heavenliness she was,
Like a goddess flawless of divine beauty.
Within and without
All to a nonbelieving soul.
An heart infatuated by vanity

Now time has given his final touch.
There she stands on a hallowed pedestal.
A memory.
A souvenir in the walk of life.

A day outgone by its dusk.
Its twilight a merriment reminisce
Sepia colored.

I recollect,
My eyes on the silver linings of a darkened cloud.

Of a lost love story.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s