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Unsung Song Of A Fragile Heart



This talented poet dedicates his poem to a friend who is "nothing less than an angel" to him.,




















Submited By : sara  
Date: 14 August 2006
Author: Al
Rating: 4.0/5 (7 votes cast)
tag Love Poems comments 0 comments share Share favorite Add to favorites commentsSend To Friend


Unsung Song Of A Fragile Heart
The me that you see from your mind - the me I will never be.
The me that you see from your heart - the me I will always be.

The co-valence between the heart and the mind is the essence of true
beauty.
The assimilation of emotions and feelings is the gist of veritable dainty.

If I were there right across with you now, the pangs of separation
wouldn't be.
If I could still be away from you, the delectation of conjoin would always
be.

Passion does not mean subjugation of fatal attraction.
Desire means to dream ultimate fascination.

You are not God nor is my love that of angel.
When we are both humans, then why this frequent torment.

They call your external beauty as divine creation.
I call your concealed magnificence as eternal conception.

Thus then let's hold hand in hand and embrace.
Then admit to one another that we are no good without each other.

There will never be another now - Let's make the most of today.
There will never be another us - Let's make the most of ourselves.

But as usual, dreams die first; soft, tender, unattended.
It's me now for sometime; luxuriant, malleable, abandoned.

Thinking of bygone... it's been a long expanse...
A reflection of days long archaic - misplaced emotions, desires & secrets,

Poetry, loneliness, love & pain.

Whatever became of the love we shared?
We swore to hold each other till the end.

But does love, like all things decay?
Earnest compassion always has to stay.

At the bottom of a forgotten mind, deep in the heart, lies a true
pertinence.
Feeling the ominous stare from the captive heart, you are forced to peek
at its treasures.

We kept a journal of our special appellation -
"All our firsts", and the times we made love veneration...

Does reviewing these experiences bring it all back?
Are the feelings gone, and do memories really fade?

Clearing the dust with doubting fingers, a teardrop forms in the backdrop
of eye.
A petal from the first received rose crumbles to dust when exposed to the
air.

Out from behind the subconscious mind falls an image secretly stashed.
Still sealed with intense feelings covertly cached.

It's a shame the way things emanated.
But then my life at the twilight age still originates.

You never will find another like Aejas.
Real love is always hardest to rupture and the most arduous to wither.
-Al -

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