In the world where chivalry is dead and causal is used with relationship,
A tale unfolds of a man and a girl, a story of absolute destruction of a heart,
In the depths of longing and struggle, where dreams were never turned into reality
The man walked the path which was never meant to be his,
On his way he met a girl, destined to sail.
His soul intertwined with her under the moonlight,
But destiny’s decree had a cruel design.
His heart aflame and hands became nimble in her grace,
Asters bloomed at her very smile and moon became dull by her face,
Her black pearled eyes never let any star shine bright.
He proclaimed every sunset and sunflowers on her name,
Every breath that left his body has her name written on it.
He fixed every dying rose with his heart tied by the stem,
Only for her to season him with rain and symphonies,
And hold him by her arms a little more tightly.
But fate’s whimsical hand twisted a knife in his back,
For she, enchanting and fair as yellow, chose a familiar face,
Someone he called his friend, his heart unmanned.
The weight of betrayal, drowned him in the ocean of tears.
Hiding the torment with a mask of positive affirmations,
His hands stopped writing her name in his poems,
Instead bled like a canvas with sorrow and anger.
With no one sight to ignite his heart again,
He grew numb and cold like a picture of a forgotten lover.
He watched them, every touch, every embrace,
He questioned himself, his worth, his might,
Why did she choose another’s comfort, despite
The love he poured forth, pure and true,
An offering of soul, a love imbued?
He fought with the moon and cut the ties with sky,
His heartache concealed in shadows of night,
Why did she choose him, when only he ever wanted was her skin felt on his
While he loved her soul, her essence untamed.
Unconditional love, pious and sincere,
Crushed beneath the weight of pain’s cold sneer.
Yet his wounded heart, unable to move along,
Haunted by the nightmares, through every agony
Still called her name, a flame unyielding.
He wanted to heal from the scars of affection,
But only choke his heart with the hatred,
Bleeding down on papers meant to share in bouquets,
He locked down every note and freckled rose he had,
Into the abyss of his solitude.
Through the sands of time, he shoulders the weight,
Of a heart forever scarred, never to abate.
He carries the torch of his love’s burning light,
A proof to the power of love’s enduring name.
Though the wounds may persist, their sting may cease,
His spirit ascends, embracing newfound peace.
In the echoes of his poems, his heart’s anthem would chime,
An attestation to a love that forever would chant.
So, let this tale serve as a monument to the pain,
Of a man who loved deeply, despite love’s disdain.
For even in the face of the broken dreams,
Love prevails, transcending life’s turbulent streams.
And though he never healed from the wounds of yore,
He found solace in the love he forever endured,
Delved deeper in the sands of despair,
A poet of longing, his words would eternally roar.