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This too shall pass away Be still my heart I cannot grieve forever What was done was done, now let it rest I shall think of it no more. This pain has Had its day, its hour has come, let it pass Like tears through an hourglass telling only Of its own demise, its own loss, thus releasing Me from any contract falsely inscribed in the Name of love on my heart and claimed by Another
I gave love all I had to give but love wasn't Listening, at least not the love I thought I Knew. Long nights alone with only the moon For company cast me in a sad and sorry light Hurt, anxious, worried and more than a little Jealous. Nights I would not care to visit again Nights when tears readily well up from nowhere Sleep becomes a memory, the small hours become The long hours, seconds become minutes, minutes Become hours and the air turns cold
Cold lopsided love uncertain of what tomorrow May bring. Portraits of despair sketched on a Backcloth of gloom. Fear of loss bringing its Own demons to life, demons keen to weary the Imagination journeying to destinations best left Unvisited but not tonight, for tonight is wholly Reserved for the narrative of a broken heart
Broken yes, but not beyond repair, for love can Never be beyond repair, there is always someone Something able to heal even the most savaged Heart in the most savaged breast and so it was With my heart. Looking back I wonder why I Invested so much in so little. Was I really in Love? Well, I thought I was... but when the Line 'This too shall pass away' entered my head And stayed there, I knew then that the demons Of the night had lost their grip
© Joseph G Dawson Vote for this poem
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