The First Prince
Twas fortnight last,
I gazed your
features
Each night full of
shrouded creatures
Emotions all a dark,
smothering cloud
Despairing now, this
prince once proud
Heartless, you
declared of me
Heedless of your
dreams to be
Now each day, a
hopeless scrying
Now each day, a
fruitless trying
To find the meaning
of your loss
A speck of hope
amongst the dross
That this
ensorcelled sleep
doth end
That last harsh
words, a chance to
mend
One final gaze upon
your bower
Then I must leave
this cursed tower
Fading into the
choking mist
Swallowing the
beauty, never kissed
Copyright © Bruce Loving | Year Posted 2014
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