Left to Die

Pop64

 

I thought t’was there just yesterday

But nay, I see it not

The sun has gone, it’s disappeared

As now I feel distraught

 

My working eyes, they dare not seek

To find one to replace

For the sun that melted my cold heart

Shines not upon my face

 

My lips, that with my tongue, so sang

Are deplete of lovely tune

The sun has gone for all my days

And with it, went the moon

 

Alas, this darkness, that now enshrouds

It blankets with a grip

I’ll miss my sun and midnight moon

As I slumber in this crypt

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Comments6

  • janiselizabeth

    Simply awesome!

    • Pop64

      Thank you, really appreciate this!

    • LIZ

      Mmmmm yearning....for something/someone irreplaceable. A memory....of what was. Beautiful!!

      • Pop64

        Liz, thank you for all your wonderful words of encouragement.

      • Teddy.15



        My working eyes, they dare not seek

        To find one to replace

        For the sun that melted my cold heart

        Shines not upon my face

        Beautiful. ❤️.

        • Pop64

          I really appreciate that, Teddy, thank you!

        • Introverted Sage

          I understand this as the ebb and flow of life, and sometimes by day.
          Waves of sadness, anger, regret, pain and misery come in seeming from no where and 'blankets with a grip'. Like walking around with an invisible, personal, dark cloud over your head.
          'My working eyes, they dare not seek
          To find one to replace'
          Knowing or remembering the days that felt lighter and despite the darker feelings, understanding nothing in that field will provide that.
          Great write!

          • Pop64

            I really appreciate your reaction and comments on this, thank you!

          • sorenbarrett

            It is somehow classical reminding me somewhat of Poe. Its hauntingly dark with a gentle nature that lulls one one beyond the river Styx. I can almost hear Charon rowing with its rhythm.

            • Pop64

              Poe? Wow, thanks. My dad had an original "Raven" I can remember as a kid. A huge, binding broken, but all pages in tact book. That's when I felll in love with everything Poe, the gothic, but romantic type of writing. Thank you

            • 🐤s.zaynab.kamoonpuri🌷🐦😽

              Awesomely rhymed poem flowing superbly missing the sun. Works both literally and metaphorically. Kudos!!

              Plz also read and comment my newest poem too.

              • Pop64

                Thank you and will get there today



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