Poem – “As I am Loveless…” – Romance – 12/17/2019

As I once met a woman, near to a lake,
Near to a shore,
Near to a stream,
With the most delicate of leaves
Trembling, under the autumnal gaze
Beneath her,
And I.
She gazed upon them, each of them,
Washing along the delicate road,
With her own delicate vision.

I bereaved a new tear, down upon my cheek,
With failure to my every word.
Because, I caused the negligence, to what I needed most.
A love, because I was loveless,
And a woman, here, to sate the thirst,
For my heart, that has thorns about its exterior.

I have felt only the many pains,
And the many lashes,
From life’s harsh coldness.
And now, here to see,
What is destined to be,
A woman for my cold scenery,
And to warm it, beautifully.
I am, in this entrancement, fully aware of what’s to come.

A golden kiss upon my heart of winter,
And next, for arms of ivory to wrap themselves
About me, in their shapes so slender.
She is a rose, who does not know,
Where love goes, upon when it will show.

Have I forced? Have I coerced?
Love does save, or am I overly brave?
I merely wish for a kiss, that which I cannot miss,
Because I am sad, and have never
been glad.

3 thoughts on “Poem – “As I am Loveless…” – Romance – 12/17/2019”

  1. You need to feel you’re being loved
    with time, that need can grow stronger
    you cannot hide this feeling forever
    it wants to go out by yelling it louder.

    Thinking and believing you are loveless
    from love will bring you farther & farther
    start by learning to love yourself first
    chances to find true love will be larger.

    1. In this poem, I was referring to a “loss” of a certain love, one that I held onto as a dream, until the dream collapsed.

      Throughout my love, together with this woman, I knew who I was, while others threw doubt upon our faces. I knew who I was, all throughout the entire time. I guess what I didn’t know is that destiny had a different fate in store for us.

      We parted because of a reason that was without fault attached. No guilt even needed to be felt. Though, that was also the most frustrating thing, that I couldn’t take my anger out on anyone or anything, except for the page. Eventually, the wound in me hardened into pure bitterness, and though this woman and I were friends, then on, I couldn’t look at her as anything other than a doll. A lifeless figure, without beauty. It was too painful, so I backed off, completely.

      I guess me saying that I “knew who I was” is referring to what you said about “loving yourself”, because I still know who I am. That much, I haven’t lost.

    2. To add…

      I always turn my own poems, resonating from my own feelings, into stories. 🙂

      They are oftentimes much different from what really happened. As in, I didn’t meet this woman near a lake. Haha. 😀

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