Adieu to love

Stylistically speaking, I'm not the most romantic of writers. But that doesn't stop me from having my moments. Just check out the small poem I wrote today. While it is a little close to home, for the large part its based entirely in fiction.

Here it is:

Adieu to Love

My eyes are shut and I hear,
your laughter, filled with joy.
Its aria echoes in my ears,
resonates with my soul.
Yet I will stand here and say naught,
for you must have him.
He whom you so desire,
the object of your passion.
The one for whom your heart beats,
And the center of your universe.

How strange then that I am sorrowful,
Since twas me that wraught this union.
Twas me that cradled your dreams,
and watched over them.
Held your hand when the one you adore,
Gave you much pain,
Became a pillar to your crumbling love,
through the times when hoplesness surrounded you.
And told you time after time,
that the two of you were fated.

How childish of me to be hateful,
of the one that I placed within your arms.
How loathsome that I cringe each time,
he embraces you and pulls you close.
Have I fallen from my pedestal ?
Has my resolve evaporated ?
Perchance the anaethema of aborted love,
has finally clouded my eyes.
And as your lips lock on to his,
I sense my own ardour commiting seppuku.

I force my eyes open only to see,
You are engrossed in your confabulation with him.
Long lost in the void of his universe,
Where even I cannot find you.
I want to scream, to call out your name,
to tell you all this failing heart of mine,
for so long a time,
has kept hidden even from itself.
The emotions, all fallow before thus,
breaking free as you vanish before my eyes.

Should I have spoken ere,bared my soul to you ?
Would that have made a difference,
perhaps changing the way you thought of me.
I could not for fear of losing the only tie,
that I can ever have with you,
Your friendship.
For what else could I ever be to you,
than the one to turn to when all else is bleak.
What more is my lot than to be humbled,
by any small show of affection ?

The icy breeze slashes against my face,
rudely waking me from my reverie.
It is not unwelcome though,
for it carries your scent.
Once more I look upon you unhappily,
knowing full well that,
your eyes will never look at me,
the way they look at him.
For where he exists,
I am blurred to a silhouette.

An errant thought wills me to bid farewell,
to wave and to depart.
Yet my longing holds me transfixed,
unable to move.
The torture of maiming your own passion,
will you ever understand that ?
The torment of holding that which you love,
and passing it to another.
Trust me,
there is nothing that can equal it.

Yet,
I don't wish for you to ever know it.
To see you smile,I would do much worse,
than to live in agony.
But there is nothing else left for me,
in this barren land now.
From whence all traces of love have fled,
and where I stand alone.
So shall I now depart,
though whither I shall go I know not.
I fear my heart has forces me,
to throw but a few words at your feet.
As a final tribute to you,
ma chérie, je t'aime.