wish i could write something like this right now, too. unfortunately, seems like my creative juices have decided to go "pffft.." on me today. *sigh* guess i'm just in a lousy mood. but anyway, hope you'll enjoy this (though it isn't december yet hehe). i know i did.. :)
Roses in December
the love that was
seemed to haunt my soul
like a never-ending stream
trying to bore a hole in the dam of my heart
ever-searching, penetrating, enticing,
confusing the love that is
the now, and hopefully, the future.
memories unbinding, returning, reliving
the love that was
the one that my present love strives to conquer,
and tries to bury in the depths of oblivion.
yet sometimes
the image of the love that was
comes like a beguiled spirit
possessing the one who now holds my heart.
how unruly! how unfaithful!
to think that hope of reconciliation
between me and the love that was
still has a chance of becoming.
though the roses he once sent me
left an imprint of some kind,
its fragrance and its beauty
its petals and leaves already wilted
like ashes thrown back in the sand
its thorns like the love he once offered
pricked the passion that held me waiting,
my fidelity that kept me trusting,
now has been buried long enough
to forget the pain that it caused me once.
such roses has long been sought
such roses has long been found
but with new meaning,
with new hope, and
with the new love that brought back
the passion, the fidelity, and security
that was taken from me
from the love that was.
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