Cruel Memory

In the genesis of our existence

our passion was fresh

pure, looking for emotions to become concrete



he left me with a sense of assurance

my heart obtuse

but heedless to what hindered us to be complete



reminiscent as a warm November

we were beautiful with the feeling of timelessness

although the time rendered us unusual



then the sand of our hourglasses

had surrendered their last grain

and the perception of our souls were no longer mutual



he is a cruel memory

as the rain of my irises

are constantly strewn all over the floor



my dreams are just a torturing imagery

of how your conclusion bullies my seclusion

but will I ever not love you anymore?



only the brokenhearted could understand

how much pain is involved

when all you have is love's silhouette



and just like a defaced masterpiece

he's something I don't want to remember

but left struggling to forget.


(c) Pryncess Poetiq, 2006.