Tony R. Rodriguez

The Disappearance And The Slow Awakening

From her lips flew arrows I wish I did not Own,
And I felt such Affliction, with tears not Shown.
Compared I did the great loves of past Similar;
For once I felt such Elation in blessed Particular.

And now—thanks to foolish actions—I do Scour
From a Lamp whose contents will undoubtedly Sour.
Her name: quite common to those who’ve Heard.
‘Such splendor! ’ I, with a gleam, would often Word.

Strong was our Love and soon we Learned:
‘Together, such mirth! ’ we often Confirmed.
And so after years of joy and worth things turned to the Red:
‘Our Love ...