Yearn Poem by charnen postrano

Letting go—slowly without a single sound.
A silent sigh for a resigning host.
Not long ago a maiden found light.
But not long before it faded on sight.

A damsel glorified with the thought of love.
A maiden horrified with the truth of clout.
In the days of wishing for euphoric life,
Only one day for a shattered heart.

Is it a sin for loving thee sorely?
For I, not a day of yearning lowly.
I was ready to give the roses at least,
But surrendered at the moment of feast.

Love yet again burned my hand,
Doth you see the palm?
It is a sin for loving you sorely.
Thus, the tears ran surly.