"What she has sought"

@Uootem

A essence of once known love
floating through lifetimes and again... lost
for it is no more found...
time has stolen it from our existence
and space has grown between what we were and are.

why then should darkness concede to a ray of hope
in silent echoes and mystical visions of her?
for my soul neglects the truth that this is no longer reality.

Tears pirouette from the eyes of my loneliness
and futile ink stains this poet's clear view
as I look with sorrowed gaze upon my destitute destiny...
forfeited and wan.... the eternal plight that ravaged strong;
the plight of a loss so very wrong.

"Worship her", is all love's echo says
"cherish her", for all time is what I do,
keen no more to the pain of days that pass.
I have the strength to remember her ways
but memory is a haunting wail of melancholy
to be flung to the wind, if I am to survive...
so let it travel far away from this place... my mind.

I know that love may not return on the new day's hope
to free me from that pain which seems forever to be

I know that dreams are for dreaming... not for fulfillment
for the time they focus on is long since past
but listen to this poet carefully...
as I speak in silent words
for the silence heals,
but its meaning cuts like hewn steel.

Should I allow my weakness to be seen
for confession appears my only savior
for I dislike being not held or remembered
or should I hide these emotions
until she is no longer missed
I loathe this lonesomeness that will not subside
so I find another poem with to subsist.

I scorn these times of separation found
that seem the most bitter of any crimes to endure
they scar my heart that is already fragile,
and my future hopes have a lackluster shine.
yet I must subscribe to contortions of illusion's haze
finding silver lined clouds along random ways.

There is no remedy that can heal my plight
for I must suffer in a guileless maze of searching.
I feel she's here, but know she's gone
for I seldom see her with eyes open, (reality stings)
but I know I love her
for I still hear our song
at the twilight's end, the start of dawn.

But as I will never know her touch again,
for she dwells in a country of colorful delight
and my own landscape pales to compare, yet
I will always cherish what she gave to me in our time
so much love, so much happiness... I remember still
but I will never know her touch again.

Perhaps one day she will see me following still
as I just stand there and watch her live,
being near if she ever remembers... ever needs
for all hopelessness weakens at this source where it starts
there is always a reason for waiting...
and that someday may come
when she will discover we are
what she has sought.