By Lady E
Author's Notes: I once aspired to be a professional writer. Recently, as I've picked up writing again, I just suddenly noticed how much my writing has deteriorated. A disappointing realization of course, and that is what this poem deals with. On the other hand, it's such a general and unoriginal piece that it could really be interprested in any way and applied in many different situations.
I don't consider this a very good piece: it's scattered and loose and melodramatic, all over the place, but it acted as a vent for pent-up emotions, so see what you think. Did the emotions come across okay?
I have lost it,
that which was there
once upon a fantasy.
But my blinded eyes could not see
and I forgot the beauty
and the splendor that could be.
I'd thought to keep it forever,
always within my breast.
It was my secret, my possession,
eternally, in me to last.
There was no greater obsession
than our present, future, and past.
But it has gone now,
departed from me unseen,
until I tried to find it again,
and my fingers found nothing,
my soul gasped empty,
leaving wretchedness in its wake.
O! the gaping loss,
the horror of emptiness!
What eternity, what "forever?"
There was never a promise,
only what my thoughts presumed,
mistaken in their wayward haste.
My thoughts avail me not now.
They whisper of a secret hope,
a soul-deep yearning to have
a second chance.
Impossible: there was no promise,
and forever lies bleakly before me.
Thanks for reading!