Below is the poem entitled Into Her Hands which was written by poet
Sprouse. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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I searched for so long
for a cure for my disease.
I began to despair that I was doomed to be vexed
by this unrelenting plague,
that devouring ailment of the heart
we know as loneliness.
For ever so long I knew it well;
felt its cruel clutches every morning,
dreaded its embrace every night.
I knew not where to go or what to do,
for I was consumed by a feverish need
to seek out a solution,
to fix what I deemed wrong.
I looked for what seemed an eternity,
a lone wanderer questing for his other half.
I hunted in vain,
growing more despondent with each passing day.
Eventually I had no choice;
surrender my only recourse.
I closed down the gates to my heart,
held fast the door, resigned to my fate;
better to bend my back bearing the burden
than stand tall with false hope.
So I intended to live, locked away,
safe in my emotional exile;
but life cares little for our schemes,
delights in shifting our plans and priorities.
Little did I suspect
that putting a halt to my restless pursuit
would lead me right to my goal;
even the most expansive imagination
could never have guessed that doing so
would reveal my path at long last;
the intricacies of life never cease to amaze.
You illuminated my world
in my darkest hour;
brought love as a balm for my pain,
opened my eyes and gave to me a realm
within which I am complete;
a new reality of which
you are the star;
my soul's supplication embodied.
Indeed, love seems not a strong enough term
to encompass all you mean to me;
but, in the absence of a better way to say
that I need you,
I can't live without you,
I want you in my arms for good,
I'll just give to you my humble remark
that I will love you, always.