What was the point of all of those empty promises

made in the sunset, when all of them were as

temporary as the hours in a day,

rushing by without a second glance

at my poor, naïve soul.

Will anything ever be as beautiful as you?

The eye of the beholder must have been blind.

How couldn’t it have seen such timeless elegance

and unsolicited kindness? Mere rarity is nothing

compared to the uniqueness of her.

All for naught, mere turns of the sandglass pouring away.

Staring into the vast galaxies above us seems fruitless

now that the biggest and brightest one has vanished.

All that was said, all that was implied,

they can’t fix the gaping hole of my once home.

The loss of her fingers intertwined with mine does

remind me of a tree with upturned root,

swaying and shaking in the wind.

How could a moth live without his flame?

How could a bee live without his queen?

Fires that once raged in my skin and my bones

have smoldered out, the smoke arising

from my used and benign essence blown away

and casting about a dull scent of imitation.

Nothing is real, all I see are just shadows in the zephyr.

The sun, oh the stars above,

let me live among you. Time has no passing

and love has no meaning when I can see all, feel all.

A chance for redemption never granted.

There’s no place to go for broken hearts.