Scornful Nostalgia
Dew doth drop with gentle hue,
On petals tinged a bashful blue,
As bees swoon to swollen pollen;
I crave back that view to fall in;
‘Tis you, ‘tis you.
As sea kisses the night sky,
Before day doth due the two goodbye,
I lie; a rock on thine tender shore;
And beg thou to crash upon forever more.
But; by then, thou hast gone awry.
Like petals wilt ‘neath autumn sky;
And soon to winter must it succumb,
Casting the world into its snowy sanctum
Long with frigid grasps to cage mine heart;
As I know that thou from I, must hence depart.
I; numb. Aye; numb.
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