Bright Poem by Victoria Hardy

The melancholy of autumn
Takes me back to you
Sometimes it stays
Sometimes it flies away

Born down by bitter memories
I turn restlessly
In an empty bed
On an empty night

I try forgetting,
I try stopping
Yet is is unfair to Eros
Is love only love when it is mutual?

No, it is a gift itself;
And my tears belong to me
they lie in the very middle
Of stormy waters

Often enough this happens
Keep watching over the nature.
If bright shone even once
It will shine once again.