Although you loved me but a moment in eternity;
know that I loved you an eternity in each moment.
You may or may not still love me,
but I will always love you.
Once you were in my heart,
you were alive forever.
Everything I write of love
is infused with a memory of you.
Your smile brought light to the darkened room.
Your laughter kept the walls from closing in.
Your whispers held loneliness at bay.
Your kisses fed the fires in my heart.
These memories guide my hand,
and offer a certain truth to my love.
You are as much a part of me
as my soul is of the great expanse.
I cannot miss you
because you are always with me.
~One love~
© Aug 18, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Sunday, August 11, 2013
I remember
I remember soaring the skies of eternal love with "her" at my side. The
indescribable feeling of being ONE with another. The intoxication, yet
complete awareness, of love. And then the falling. The falling. The
falling. The plummet from light to darkness. The pain. The barren
eternity of missing her. The torment of the soul. The agony of feeling
incomplete. The questions, "Was it me? Was it her?" The temporary
madness of self introspection and self destruction of sanity. The
screams. The dreams. The loss of focus. And after all humanness has been
burned away, the purity of the soul remains and we remember that we are
more than flesh. We are spirit.
perhaps...perhaps not...
I search the winds for a trace of my Muse,
her song no longer reaches my ear.
Her whispers fails to stir the air or
offer animation to my quill.
All I possess is a memory of a memory;
now blind to the hint of her presence.
The blackness of my ink,
a shadow of a shadow,
does not lend curves to my lines.
A loss.
There are no smiles or sighs between words,
only emptiness.
Trapped in the thought of a thought,
becoming lost time’s movement.
I was in love with the idea
of being in love.
That was enough for a moment.
To keep the smallest element of hope alive,
must I believe there was a thread of reality?
Perhaps…
Perhaps not…
© Aug 11, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
her song no longer reaches my ear.
Her whispers fails to stir the air or
offer animation to my quill.
All I possess is a memory of a memory;
now blind to the hint of her presence.
The blackness of my ink,
a shadow of a shadow,
does not lend curves to my lines.
A loss.
There are no smiles or sighs between words,
only emptiness.
Trapped in the thought of a thought,
becoming lost time’s movement.
I was in love with the idea
of being in love.
That was enough for a moment.
To keep the smallest element of hope alive,
must I believe there was a thread of reality?
Perhaps…
Perhaps not…
© Aug 11, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
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