Withered Roses

a poem about the love of Tristan and Isolde....

 She was my Juliet, I became her Romeo with a love binding though untrue.

Bound were we to eachother's passions but a potion of deciet flowed in her veins.

T'was never meant to be given, like her soft white hand was never to be in mine.

O! The pains of our influenced families, worlds apart,  yet so close together.

That potion made our love a withered rose, still so beautiful but truely dead!

Like Arthur has Queen Guinever, I had my love, even though simple a man was I. 

But she was snatched away in her true lover's grip, thus ending ours, only lust remained.

Because before the times of the lovers of olde, back when the worlds were young. 

With enchanted stories of perfect lives and unbroken chains of hope that didn't die.

Before there was ever a Queen with love for a man or knight with horse and chains of mail.

Before Romeo and Juliet... there was Tristan and Isolde, who's love was almost just the same.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Adelia Alighieri]

Whoa; after reading this poem; I had one thing in my mind...'Elegance'.
I've been an avid fan of Tristan and Isolde and for years; I had been looking forward to read what people thought about their tragedy and now at least I've found something!!
Great Job...Adding Arthur and Guinevere and Romeo and Juliet made it more special.
Keep writing..
Cheers! =D
A.A.