Kiss of Fate
Gone are the splendours of simplicity
when youth and innocence did life portend;
now my days are filled by complexity
and sweet utopian dreaming at an end.
I am not a man forgiven to sin
nor a beguiled fool to fantasised love -
truly without I feel the heart within
and each sobered thought this reminds me of.
Soul-destroying are the long stolen years -
its conscious slow death, its visceral grief
that robs me of all my wonderful cares
and flees into the shadows like a thief.
That season of youth I recognise now
but cold the kiss of fate upon its brow.
Written: October 1991
Copyright © Keith D Trestrail | Year Posted 2022
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