_From my collection RENAISSANCE_
Is it the time wasted?
Or is it the painful gain?
All in all is a win for us.
We were a perfect half
I proved my loyalty
You proved your existence.
I'm hurt and mourning
But I'd still say I'm sorry
That's my gentle man's way
Sorry that I'm not a prophet
To have seen this coming
Mourning on reminiscing of
Efforts lost to forfeit.
I better take my leave
Apologies for the pain
Is it too much of a drain?
Last night had me munching
On thoughts of anchoring
My leave to a No Man's Land
Where silence would be peace
And peace to lay forever
Would the sermon have been better if Parker was a priest?
Would the pain have gone if Shakespeare had written about us?
Would I ever complain if you had atone to me?
Would love have been better if roles were switched?
Would it make sense if hurting me wouldn't be an offense?
Drich is my name
The living ghost of Apollo that
Has gained applaud of centuries before him.
Fumbles with words and tweaks emotions.
He's the cascade of art in all exaltation.
And a sublime to gaze at and be lost in words.
I fund my heart with excuses
And blab about why we can't
But the stubborn fauna is always fantasizing about you.
But I have to go,
The journey on the edge of life
Was one of millions. But fate had other plans.
If only I can make amends,
Will you put a supporting arm?
Times with you felt lonely
Times in your sight felt conclusive
Times with you, I attended my funeral and came back to life.
Communication is a life vein
Cut it and everything is ground to zero
I find you're at your peak in my absence and
At your worst in my presence.
The world deserves someone like you,
The world denounced wolves like us and made us a threat to society.
For I must go and never look back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem