By: Gus Victoria
Promises spoken softly,
Wind-carried whispered offerings of a love
Gone before it faded,
Strong as it left,
I, weak in its wake,
You, joyful in retreat,
We, shattered in defeat,
The long-fingered icy grasp
Of solitude stalks
The febrile dreams of desperate hope,
Enclosing fast,
Killing them,
Painfully driving them
To a grave of memories,
Amid a procession of promises,
The spectre of everlasting joy
Is the wraith of could have been,
If you’d the eyes to have seen,
But blind you fought
While blind I sought
The love we forgot.
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