A virus ravages the world.
A famine envelops mine.
I crawl into bed,
Having no measure of time,
Sleep eludes me for days,
As your memory ravages my mind.
I lift up the pillow you used
And hold it to my face.
Your smell has followed you away.
I remember,
If you remember how I would,
Or if you undoubtedly felt
When you said,
I don’t want to be with you.
I took his hand, while drifting on the shore,
He mistook the shallows for the ocean.
His youth found the beauty in all the lore,
Caressing the anchor, devoid of motion.
My captain stood against a want and need,
To protect him from what must lay ahead:
Shattered lessons of betrayal and greed,
Of weighed down dreams, upon an ocean bed.
What he does not know now need not be known…
But when landlocked safety is rejected,
I‘d have to take what I myself have grown,
And sail to the deep and the dejected.
When waters roar and his eyes froth with fear,
I wish enough remains to pull him near.
Love begins with such tenderness –
Even the tears are made of joy!
What wonder it holds in that time,
Oh, what magic it does employ!
The many things that irks love now
Were what held away all its fears.
Who could truly know that sadness
Would supercede past joy in tears?
Each twist in the body was seen,
As some Grecian statue of old;
Now twists are seen with angst and pain
And addressed with manners so cold.
Love glimmered like burnished gold,
When it was young and fresh and new;
But gold doesn’t oxidise with time
And take on shades of green and blue.
Carpe diem, the poets implored,
They chased love and it chased them, too,
This chase has gods fall weary,
Then what the poet, or me or you!
Hubris is a part of all love,
Love declares it rules no ego;
But most of love fades over time,
Under pride and lust’s undertow.
Love, they say, shows its truer form
As it grows with time, some say years,
Some say it lengthens slow or fast
And rebounds truest when death appears.
Love distorts due to other loves,
Experiences are benchmarks here;
Doubt’s a seed people love to sow,
Watered by your own unseasoned fear.
Needless to say, love confuses
All its promises, in the end,
It isn’t love, if fate and time ask
And the imposter agrees to bend.
Hearts Still Care 
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