The Arrow That St(R) Uck Poem by Rodion Myshkin

Canto 1
Sharp with a pointed surge,
Thrust in deep,
My bloated beats merge,
And in unison, my powers seep.
Behold! A Grace that belittled Angels,
Soared to shame aves of peace,
Eyes twinkling beyond the stars,
The archer had hit the dot!
Regrets flew to passing shadows,
A dumb witness to eternal charm,
I yearned for that flawless smile,
To make my angst to blissful silence.

Canto 2
Scurrying away, with a moment’s gaze,
The pleasure short-lived,
I followed the trail,
Unyielding to the murky maze.
A crooked game, Time plays,
Absence breeds prolonged pain
With Sparing flashes of joy,
From memory and hope.
Does beauty only demand
Idle perception?
Or does it claim for a Victor’s
Guile to conquer?

Canto 3
The questions stream,
Doubts galore
With escaping answers,
I cover my lies.
Day by day,
Mind makes a fleeting jump,
The Archer never will know
Torrential torments fired from the bow.
To overcome differences,
To flatter the heart,
My spirit in earnest,
Took up the vow to woo.

Canto 4
It began with passing glances,
Eyes shadowed with meaning;
Casual smiles,
Lips lined to mystify.
But Eros strikes
In stranger ways,
A slight brush of my hand
Unwittingly did the deed.
A bond was struck,
The feelings grew mutual,
A resonance rose in tune,
And a love was born.

Canto 5
Days dawned to months,
With growing intimacy
Inseparable in space,
We yielded to Time.
To fall under possessive stares,
Forming feud of silences,
Which shrewdly mended,
Only tightened the tie.
Swelled to wonder,
Of possibilities beyond the infinite,
As Magi’s Gift, neither knew of ways,
To give up more for the other.

Canto 6
To lie unstrung in public eye
The Fates who threaded,
Never did want,
Our names in social union.
Barriers mounted uncertain,
Families and custom,
Seldom favour,
The unfortunate brave.
Why a trial on earth,
Of mortal agreement,
When souls breathe as one
In blissful meditation?

Canto 7
Providence for fools,
The unbelievers,
Fallen to wail,
Over drunken delusions.
Justice, pour amour,
Is but a departed deal,
To smite the mighty root,
Of fleeting illusions.
A slow poison of reality,
Seeps to our core,
Numbness,
A far better reprieve was death.

Canto 8
Not a story of more woe,
Than dagger and poison,
Deceit to Trojan demise,
Nor a lyre to soften Hades.
Wretched men we are,
To wait for White Sails,
Or a glimpse in nine years,
Carving verse on idle rock.
History grooms the tragedies,
A parody on the living,
Pen down my name too;
Existence is still forgiving.

Canto 9
Long as each day meets another,
Cherish me love,
I can do no more,
Future opens many a door.
We’ll always have, not Paris,
But a city of light,
Shone on my delight,
Reflected on your iris.
Now, letting you go,
Is the easiest thought,
My answer was no,
Notion is naught.

Canto 10
There is no end,
As another arrow send,
Forgets the first,
Move on we must.
I wait for the next,
Pierce me, Oh Archer!
I don’t regret or vex,
A future departure.
Whatever be it may,
Love never dies,
I would get my prize,
Tomorrow is another day...