A Candle To Our Name. Poem by Taylor Guillot Soleil89

From the beginning,
My soul,
It loved you.
I bled to comfort you,
to touch your face;
To find you in my secret place.

My masterpiece in the sky.
You are my Van Gogh
My Starry Night.

My Claude Monet,
As I walk among the lilies.
The Claire DeLune
of every melody.

Find me here my love.
Find my soul as I wait for you.
I am relentless.
The curse I am cursed with;
Shall my love ever reflect,
or continue on into this void
without a candle to it's name?

I miss you, my love.
As I thrive on your glances,
those unexpected moments of desired affection.

Find me under the oak,
Where you held me once with ferocity.
Your passion was unfading.
Your eyes burned with completion.
Now we sit,
we age.
Not a candle to our name.

Your Annabel Lee,
Your Maiden by the sea.
Your eternal summer;
Fading.
What once was there;
Decaying.

A love meant for movie screens,
The Castle that was built in the blink of our dreams.
The book; a gesture of immortality.
yet here you stay. Not moving, Nor to be moved.
Rotting with the page.

So find me here.
I'll wait.
Cursed with the burden
of holding the candle
to our Name.