Did I Really Have What I Had

Was she really genuine?

Did I really have what I had

Sweet light red petals of sakura,
Turning mournful blue--beamed by the moonlight sonata.
Thoughts drenched by the evening milieu,
Wondering what to think of--maybe you is the clue.

Serenaded by the vows that were avowed,
Yet the melody was gone--never to be aloud.
Oh, voice of my was,
Why it is I that was left in the past.

She was my arsonist,
Yet why so cold?
You were my artist,
Yet to nugatory I was sold.

Oh, cherubims above the light,
Was she really the girl I prayed all night.
If not, why then she was given?
Can't I just also take back what was taken?

To The One who was and will be,
She and I, can't You just let it be?
To You, I prayed with tears.
But why was it You granted my fears?

What is it again the alter ego of sadness?
Why is it so easy to defy happiness?
Can somebody tell me what it means to be loved?
For I can just envisage to have what I not had.

Author's Note

Just a piece I wrote for my english subject

Reviews

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Your first stanza is very descriptive and full of lovely images, Gabriel.The sense of a love lost is palpable here. Sometimes we just don't know the true value of something until it is lost. I enjoyed the poem, my friend. ⚘