Loved, Loved Again Poem by mark king

I. Memory is calling, living has turned to haunting dreams. They seem to call out whispering her name, an invitation to be loved again in the midst of all the dreams that can’t come true.
II. As her last breath brushed upon my face her last touch weakened on my arm. Despair and depression have made me promises they will keep, unlike the ones I can’t make to her.
III. Her last words still ring, I love you my love forever. In the moment of death I caught her last look, I saw myself in those eyes, I saw a love and a future that wouldn’t be.
IV. One careless moment and the brilliant color of love becomes black, lonely prevails, it wins. Leaving just a longing to be loved again by her.

Dedicated to Beth