gone, thus gone

@Uootem

Time's counting does not appease my longings,
                        would that it have, my hand could be stilled,
          from this yearning yet to write such versings
                                  of the passion rent from long ago memories
that haunt in moments of silence and reflection,
                          which lie in tears of a heart disturbed by the losing:
          gone, thus gone, is the lasting love of my youth...
                                  forever promised love of my life... no mate for my soul.

And no more can the Poet's words be joyful
                          'til such grievance against time be addressed
          and my own unite with her love renewed
                                    that we have not lost our innocence once shared
and shall growing up no more to face our own
                          tragic aspiration of youthful grand schemes;
            that caused hearts to beat in unison for a moment
                                    then to find passion to different rhythms.

For what sonnet or revelation can pen but my regret
                          would hold but one ounce worth of useful emotion
            that would cause remembrance to fill her heart
                                    should I feel, and even acknowledge such notions
that will not grant me as I yet live, such relief,
                            for even time cannot restore her precious love to me.
            so I concede once again to the taunting of a blank page
                                    and bleed with penned ink what I long to find again.