For what was lost

A poem about the equilibrium between family, love and loss , an emotional conflict rather than a physical one.

For Love one sacrifices all sanity and rational thought.

For Love one discards life and death, everlasting, save for nought.


What is this that I have found?

If not my charge upon the ground

Upon this I cannot wait

On my honour, my love rebate

If my wit be sharp not round

Then on my word, for I am bound

To tales of old or tales of djinn

Find my posture stone herein


You speak of peace, with piece of mind

Words followed closely, thought behind

For to retract those words once said

Is to declare that piece be dead

A rapid spittle of words unspoken

In faith we hold silence unbroken

Conduit of earthly desire

When burns the truth it burns in fire.


Through eyes and mouth feelings exchanged

Through such means, our souls unchained

In vain, we cry as shackles tore

For love, for life, a senseless war

Fought not on roads nor havens reside

But among the caverns of our minds


Oh monarch of a barren land

I think on how thy forced my hand

With sorrow not residual hate

Of thirty pieces, I have but eight

The present’s but remnants of past

Where feelings are lost, but we held fast

He who wields creation in hand

Is but as feeble as we were grand 

In times of sorrow or of Strife

Our beating heart, to this our Life

And when nature has sung its song

For what was lost, in rites, our wrongs 

The End

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