A Lament Poem by Mihaela Pirjol

A Lament

Rating: 5.0

One Life, one Fate, one Love…
That one-time, ravishing, sudden love,
peeling the layers of years lived
in apathy, —finally reaching your soul;
Times, when you were anonymous
to yourself, walking hollow and weary
in the penumbra of your life;
And that one-time love, thrown
at the mercy of Fate to decide its lasting;
Upon forehead from birth engraved:
‘Predestined life you do not own.'

Why give light to heart, and then
torture it with such cruelty? —
Leave it there in its blindness,
in that comfortable slumber to dream,
but never to feel it: —
Do not tease it mercilessly with impermanence:
Fate! You, thief of immortal dreams! —
Forget about me; for I have died,
both for my dreams and my love.

No inflamed fluidity is rushing hungry
to my heart—my blood, congealed
in putrid purple veins—inert:
Do you see mirrors to heaven in my eyes?
Does my heart pulsate in rhythm of celestial bliss?
Does it flutter its wings in sync with the angelic Cupid?
Does it surrender itself to Love in ecstasy,
to relish the nectar of Life? —
No! —You cannot perturb my comfort with illusions now!
I no longer dream, nor hope for Beauty!

Do not seduce this heart with Hope: —
Look, how well preserved it is beneath
the icy triangle! —its icicles will pierce your warmth:
it will not dissolve again beneath your touch: —
You, phantasmagorical, delicious delirium of the past! —
Were you ever real, or mind-conceived, I wonder,
when I was undulating lost-and found in your oceans:
eyes crystalline—mirrors to my soul;
When I touched you and felt myself alive: —
Were you real then? —Was I, too?
For now, even death is more alive than I am.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: lost love,fate,lamentation,love
Aniruddha Pathak 07 March 2019

in the penumbra of your life; ... Were you real then? —Was I, too? For now, even death is more alive than I am... Lovely poetic expressions. Heart-rending lamentation indeed.

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Valsa George 07 March 2019

But the cruel fate was against you and you were sadly betrayed to be in harrowing loneliness and despair! Now you wonder what once you had thought to be genuine were all sham! But allowing oneself to rot in painful memories is suicidal....! Leave the past behind and have a fresh start! An intense and grabbing write...! Top marks

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Valsa George 07 March 2019

Fate! You, thief of immortal dreams! — Forget about me; for I have died, both for my dreams, and my love. This lament has left its disturbing echoes even in the air! What a powerful and heart rending presentation! Once you were touched by the mesmerizing hands of love and a new life and energy had throbbed your senses. (conti)

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Daniel Brick 20 March 2015

wow WOW W-O-W Mihaela, after your write a poem as fierce and true as this one, you can take a break from writing for awhile as you live with this one. It will provide you with food for thought, nourishment for the heart, and vision for the soul. I carefully considered those three attritbutes - food/thought, nourishment/heart, vision/soul - they represent how I articulate our Inner Self and its activities. The Romantics used to pursue an art which would LIFT THE VEIL and reveal the full truth of Reality. Your poem does that in a contemporary context. The particular situation which inspires the poem is sad, a sense of loss which cannot be assuaged, but the larger situation is an inner world of spiritual resonance, that extends beyond transience, loss, failure - all those negatives - to another realm, a visionary realm, which is as real as our imaginations make it. It's not a realm where our wishes come true, at least, I can't find any certain evidence they will. But it is a realm of real fulfillment, and beyond that awareness, words fail, but not entirely. We use words to write poems like A LAMENT, which transforms negative emotions into spiritual energy, and that spiritual energy is the very stuff of fulfillment. But since we are mortal beings, and live in time, we have to keep renewing this spiritual energy, or we will certainly slide backward into pain, loss, etc. I don't just believe this, I know it. I too have written visionary poems, that's why your poem speaks to me. The poems we write are the outward signs of an inward reality. Each one we write or read means a threshold is crossed and brings us closer to fulfillment. And that is as far as I can see, but it is enough.

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Godfrey Morris 18 February 2015

Greatly expressed I like this poem.

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