Love Lost

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 		Home : The Collection : Love Lost

They say absence makes the heart grow stronger,
They say that it is better to have love and lost,
Than to never have loved at all.
Never do they say love is painless,
Or that every love is worth the loss,
Better to live each day dreaming,
Than to suffer another no.
Once one has given his all,
Promises and love,
They are shells to be strewn on the rocks,
Shattered to pieces lost in the sea.
Better to have lost,
Better to know the pain,
Better to never have never had.
Better to know the name.
Shattered shells, pounding waves,
Sea gulls mocking monikers.
Powerless knaves,
Saves,
And with love paves,
His days,
Love and lost.
"Never has there been,"
"And never again,"
A love such as I,
Absent, lost love.
No drinks have I taken tonight,
No rum so offered me by those I trust,
No thing fogs my mind,
But sleep,
And love.
And love,
What is she,
This beast that poets tell about?
Is she just lust, lain away, burried deep,
Waiting for a pure adventurer to step,
Into her web?
Is she a feeling of pure friendship,
Untainted by jealousy, disgust, disagreeance?
That she cannot be.
For she is but shells,
Strewn, shattered.
Knaves cry out her name to poets' song.
Days pass and nights with their moon light,
Giving "love" to passing death,
Mocking sea gulls fly overhead.
And as each day I do not find love,
She must grow stronger still,
If I do not use it now,
When I find her,
She will fill the heavens, wash the mountains to the valleys,
In a river of pure bliss.
Strong, pure, lost.
Unless, I have found love, given it to she whom I love,
And it was thrown upon the rocks,
For the sea gulls to peck at.
Then, when I find my next love,
I will have no treasure to give her,
Just what I have gleaned since my last loss.
Panning for gold in a river of singing damsels.
While upon the opposite shore,
The singing knave,
Captures the most pure,
Dashing their love upon the rocks.
If so,
Love I've lost.