Sestina Lonely Poems | Sestina Poems About Lonely

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Details | Sestina |

The Nameless

I live in an old forgotten castle,
Engulfed in a vast blanket of shadow,
Where without reason, there rustles the leaves
Evermore by the cold clandestine wind.
In the ever-laughing embrace of time,
I try to speak, but long gone is my voice.

What is silence, but an ominous voice?
It's presence is known through out thine castle,
An echo growing lonely through out time,
And I, it's victim, for it stole my shadow!
Why do you bite me so, oh vengeful wind,
Because it was I that rustled the leaves?

Beneath the white, white snow I am the leaves!
Endless flakes falling, ignoring my voice.
Done away with and never to feel wind.
These once grand corridors of thine castle,
What have you done, oh malevolent time?
Soaked in ignorance and lovely shadow.

Do I yearn for the familiar shadow,
As Mother tree misses her little leaves?
In these woods I seek a faraway time,
Where there floats real sound and a friendly voice.
But in my dreams it spoke in thine castle!
Could it be? Was it real?... or just the wind.

What message do you convey, oh weary wind?
For how lost you must be in my shadow.
I feel around the dusty shelves of castle,
Searching through the dry and desolate leaves,
Harboring books filled with glorious voice!
For once I am thankful for endless time.

I've ran out of wax! Where have you gone, time?
The wick caught fire, but loving was the wind.
But did you not hear my hesitant voice,
As I walked slow through perilous shadow?
These mural portraits, showing strange green leaves.
But they've always been gray, silly castle!

Wind and leaves, I'm afraid you've been mislead,
Finding a shadow, never there, for so long a time!
Was there ever voice in thine castle?

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sestina |

The Garden

Sometimes it all feels like a dream.
A dream full of love,
Full of life,
And full of happiness.
It is as though I am surrounded by flowers;
Yet, every pedal stings like the nick of a blade.

A sharp, jagged blade.
Carving every inch of my body. Could this really be a dream?
I lie here, trying to escape, but I keep drowning in the flowers.
Even through all of this pain, I still feel the joy of love.
With every tear I shed, I still feel happy.
My world seems empty and cold, but I still feel the warmth of life.

I wonder if this is the end. If my life
Could really be taken by a simple blade.
I begin to stray away from my happiness
And realize that this is no dream.
I thought I was draped with love,
But little did I know that this garden was filled with malicious flowers.

I once felt delighted in the presence of a flower.
The cheer it brought made me burst with life.
I thought I knew the meaning of love,
But I never knew the pain of a blade.
It helped me distinguish reality form a dream
And determine what would truly make me happy.

It seems so far away, the hope of happiness.
The pedals turned black, darkening the hate within the flowers.
I close my eyes, begging for it all to be a dream.
Praying for a prolonged life.
I lay in the garden of vengeance, awaiting the pierce of a blade.
Longing for the compassion of love.

Not even a moment later, I realize there is no love;
Nothing that can make me believe in the existence of happiness.
Again and again I feel the torment of the blades;
The misery that began in this garden of flowers.
I feel my grip loosening, about to let go of life.
I am beginning to disappear like the memory of a dream.

At that moment, the light shines through the flowers.
My body fills with life,
And I finally wake from that horrific dream.

Copyright © Corinne Meade | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sestina |

The Bestseller

It’s easy for them not to try
when their love shines as bright as the Northern Star.
I’m thinking about you and I can’t stop
wishing you were right next to me all the time.
But you’re just too blind to see the story
we make when we’re together. I hate

that I sometimes think that you hate
the idea of us being together. There’s no use to try
to ask for something more. Your eyes tell a story
when you smile. You could be the star
in the movie called “My Life”. Maybe over time
you’ll change your mind and stop

denying what I feel for you. I have to stop
being scared that you might start to hate
everything I do. We’re not like that. Time
can only prove how eternal we are. Try
to see me as more than just a star
in your night sky. I can be your moon and our story

doesn’t have to end. We don’t have to be a short story
a seventh grader wrote. Our clocks don’t have to stop
ticking. We can last forever just like a star
does in the sky. Even though it died years ago, we don’t hate
it because it still illuminates the cold nights. Can you try
to imagine us together? I’m not wasting my time

no matter how much you say I am. One time,
 I remember, you said you were writing your first story
and I asked you if you were going to try
to include me in it. You begged me to stop
and to go away. You screamed, “I hate
you, you freak.” and I felt like a star

falling from the sky. People think a star
can solve all of their problems. But the time
you got the restraining order proved that you hate
letting other forces solve your problems. And the story
you tell about me is just lies now. I won’t stop
loving everything you do even if you don’t try.

I try to love the fact that you’re now a star.
But I can’t stop thinking about you all the time,
and that maybe your story, “The Stalker”, is based on hate.

Copyright © Luka Obradovic | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sestina |


I watch the passage of the sands of time
As the gold and red combine on fire in the falling sunset
Yesterday I was content
Alas my dreams now scatter unto dust
I cling in desperation try to keep hold of the burnt out ashes 
When the time comes
As the last grain falls through the hourglass
I am resigned to my demise
For I shall see her ne'er again, not least upon sunrise

Icicles in place of tears fall from frozen eyes
For I shall see you ne'er again, not least upon sunrise
I tried in vain to fight against the finality of time
How eloquent the vessel
The transparent hourglass
In different circumstances we may not of even met
Still I shall see her ne'er again not least upon sunset
Deliver me unto the ground
Beneath the storm cloud crashes 
Where my remnantsfind release
Where I may rest in ashes

Faster, falling, silently time fills the hourglass
I guess it deems fair and just
This end of days like scattered dust
In different circumstances we may of made it yet
Still I shall see you ne'er again not least upon sunset
Master of the unknown fate
Ti's you I now despise
For I shall see her ne'er again, not least upon sunrise
I tried in vain to fight against the relentlessness of time
Cat of nine so sharp so keen
The agony of lashes
Lay me finally to my rest
Dispersed in crumbled ashes

Surrender as I raise my flag
As to the end I now call time
In different circumstances would you of been mine? 
Still yet I shall see you ne'er again
Not least upon sunset
I scream and shout it's so unjust this end of days like scattered dust
Heavens open angrily
The thunder storm clashes
Don't lay me finally to my rest dispersed in crumbled ashes
Faster, falling, silently time fills the hourglass
Lord spare me from this awful place hear this sinners cries
For I shall see her ne'er again, not least upon sunrise

I drift away to different days, to childhood and girls in sashes
Until they lay me finally to my rest, a delicate mass of ashes
Faster, falling, silently time fills the hourglass
Resolute and pacified, I invite the end of time
Into the hands of my saviour I accept the death to dust
Lord welcome me from this awful place hear this sinners cries
For I shall see her ne'er again not least upon sunrise
In different circumstances, there;d be no sweet regret? 
Still I shall see her ne'er again not least upon sunset

My ashes entwined within the falling sands of the hourglass
As time departs I turn to dust
From sunset to sunrise, I see her ne'er more

Copyright © julie Cottingham | Year Posted 2009