Too Late

How do you know when the end
Has slithered it's way into
What used to be a beautiful promise?
Within a moments heartbreak,
All that would have been evaporates
Into the blistering, unforgiving sun
And passion has melted into rage.
Now surrounded by scavengers
Who circle in anticipation of
Our ravished remains,
I scream out to you.
How do you know when
It is too late to let go of the hate?
When the birth of our love has
Given over to death,
And decay has set in,
Then my love,
It is too late for us.

Reviews

[Aethereal]

It’s never too late if you’re wise. I was inspire by your poem to write this tiny gift song-poem for you to keep as your own: It’s in nine syllable 0/1/0/1/0/1/0/1/0 meter where “0” is an accent, and “1” is a non-accent. Sing along with the bouncing ball, play a guitar:

How do you know?

How do you know when the end has come?
When hate becomes bread, and love’s a crumb.
How do you know when the world’s gone dumb?
When it’s no longer more than its sum.
How do you know when you’re just a chum?
When you just follow the same dull drum.

[LynGeist]

Thank you for your review and I love the song/poem you wrote here. So wonderful.

[Aethereal]

You're welcome! A poem doesn't need to sing, but I love making 'em sing.

[LynGeist]

And you do it well.. :-)

[Tomorrowneverknows]

An intense and overwhelming grief due to disappointment. Love become hate, a disheartening scream:

"How do you know when
It is too late to let go of the hate? "


"And decay has set in,
Then my love,
It is too late for us."

Everything is over and a great love has reached an end. There is no turning back.



Lyn another poem with your outstanding elegance.

Jesus

[LynGeist]

Many thanks Jesus. You have called the essence of this poem prefectly. :-)

[Tomorrowneverknows]

You are welcome Lyn;) I really like it. I mailed you about a wonderful photo ( Monet would be very happy there) and the computer problems to upload images on writers.

Jesus