“I wish to seek the feeling on the banks of our enclave,
It has been a part of our procurement of happiness,
Just my words cannot repair all that is now lost,
The copula as of our time together cannot be repaired,  

My thoughts is all I now have to ascertain moments,
Those fortunate moments we shared in passion,
Bitter is the voice of calamity and sounds of anguish,
A bemoaning of once flourish will destroy ones heart,

Remorse weakens strength from within where love has left,
Cataclysm sounds nothing in the ears of those once loved,
Vacillate music of sadness has no fortitude for the heart,
Delve not the sun above until it sets away from surge,

You were the chapter that I was unable to construe,
I knew it existed then finally upon highest mountains,
Yet were always there to help walk on stormy mountains,
As days pass the nights wear on it is only harvest days,

I strife with the rationale as you grovel in my mind,
I Strife now no more I shall bow down my weary eyes,
Eyes which to all these woes thy hearts have guided,
Adjacent the agitated brine the aqueous banks beat,
Soul tethered debacles in aqueous banks of the brine,
Thus home I draw as death's long night draws afore”
By Andrew Guzaldo 11/04/2018 ©