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Through Misted Panes

"Regretful memories of lost love"
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Read Time 2 min
Published 2 weeks ago
A dull ache,

That’s all it is,

A half-remembered pain

From long ago,

But still very real,


That is all that remains,

A nagging remnant of love,

Faded, dull, yet sharp

As a splintered shard of glass,

A fragment of iridescent joy,

Pricking my heavy heart.

Together we were magnificent

Every moment utter bliss,

Rapture on rapture

Shining in brilliant splendour,

Eternally mated,

Perfect in execution.

That is gone forever,

Joy irredeemably

Achingly absent,

Brutally stolen by fate,

Uncaring and spiteful,

Jealous of our molten ecstasy.

I am left

Alive, but screaming

Overwhelmed by pain,

Longing for sleep,

Permanent sleep,

The forgetfulness

Of oblivion.

Like a child in the rain,

Cold and alone,

I peer through misted panes,

Eager for any glimpse

Of the light and life within,

Craving the warmth of love,

But all in vain.

Forgotten now

The laugh in your voice,

The touch of your hand,

The sight of your face, 

Light incarnate

With divine approval.

Shadows are all that remain

Fleeting images

At the corners of vision,

Remnants of our brief,

Searingly sweet,

Autumnal love affair.

I hope without hope

That one day, whenever

You might recall

Some memory of joy.

But you remain indifferent.

So it ends, adieu.

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