Foolish Infatuations

I fell for her in nineteen sixty nine, When we commenced our journey of love Along the twilit path of innocence; My zeal was unaware of the reality That the woman I loved wasn't mine. I stopped our ride near the precipice, The stones on which were cold due to The night that harnessed my prospects; We sat by a tree and I held her hands, Caressed her hair without any malice. We talked of our affair and feelings, In unforeseen malarkey of an illusory feat Which we called an immortal passion; At long last, I had the frail courage To express to her my amatory longings. She was stunned at my boyish imbecility, While I tried to becalm her in copout With aberrant words to dodge the truth; We continued being playful in false love, While I lamented in my heart's humility. After few years of sham togetherness, I listened to my scarred young bosom And interpreted the final message; I parted ways with her in dolour, Yet I longed her in veiled forlornness. Forty years passed by and I lost my mind, When I slowly entered my solitary dotage With a blemished but a stronger heart; I could think of nothing else but her, The first love who was one of a kind.