When I asked for love,
That I might hold it in abundance
I was given weakness
That I might succumb to it.

And though I asked for love,
Love never once asked for me.
I had not known love,
But love knew well of me.

I asked for compliance with love,
Though it never once held favor.
And while I could not
Bring myself to love,
She loved me.

I didn't need help,

I needed you.

I didn't need a light

When I was in darkness,

I needed you

To walk through it with me.

I didn't need a jacket

When there were storms.

I just needed to know

That you would always

Hold the umbrella.

I didn't need a reason

Why I needed you.

I needed you to tell me

That you would never leave.

After 3 long years I have finally finished this poem!

It was many a year ago

And even longer still,

In this lighthouse by the shore,

That I was sure I heard a noise,

A scream at my chamber door.

 

At that moment my soul grew weary,

My spirit naught but ash

Which had carcassed and fell upon the floor.

And my shadow still,

Which Surpassed me

Long ago in the forsaken days

Of Yore.

 

At that moment in my heart

There was a certain burning

Soon there became a 

Constant Yearning

A desire that I had long

Forgot about before.

A series of utter bedlam

Which had never frightened me before.

 

Moments passed

With no mere word

Which was spoken

Though remained unheard.

 

As I kept to myself

Upon my many books of lore

As their voices broke the

Untaimed silence

And fell upon my ****** ear

 

"Shall I intrude

This proven evil?

Is it man, or is it devil

Which made this deafening

Shrill upon my door?

Beast or human who so

Dared to leave his darkened

Shadow upon the floor?"

 

At my door

There came a sudden tapping

With many voices overlapping

The voice of those

Who had been dead and gone

Long before

Once a knock, nothing more.

 

As fear burned within my eyes

From my chair

I was yet to rise

presently here

and no further

My soul I could pertain no longer

My faith doubted by the

Very thing which stood

Behind my entrance door.

 

"Sir," said I. "Forgive me

If I seem mistreating

But the simple fact is

Entrance indeed you are

Entreating."

I stood there my heart ever beating.

 

"Late is the night

I have no room to borrow.

Though indeed

You may return tomorrow.

Surely your departure

I must implore.

 

I admit I have not remained

A well kept host,

I am a man not visited my most.

I have my doubts

And I became engrossed

When I was sure I heard you

Knocking at my chamber door."

Twas here had I opened the door.

 

Somewhere deep into that darkness, lurking,

Was a beast who stood emerging,

Demanding acknowledgement that I’ve never once gave before.

And with that reason,

In my heart I felt such treason

Such betrayal have I never felt more!

“Are you are you man or are you beast?

Are you coward, or are you least?

I demand you reveal yourself to me!”

 

Slowly, ever slowly

This visitor, rude and lowly,

Came into the light wholly presenting himself to me!

 

The Horror! The unspeakable truth!

Had I been such a fool in my own youth!

For I tell you in God’s own truth,

That child was me in my own youth!

Here I slammed the door!

 

 

And this creature, never speaking,

Is still entreating entrance at my chamber door,

And his eyes have seen all things

From demons jeering,

And the light above him dreading,

To cast even his shadow upon the floor.

For in life I’m caught in dreaming,

And the scream shall poison these dreams forevermore!

I wrote this fictional letter, upon recommendation on a website to put an end to my insufferable writer's block and to inspire me to write further.


Dear sir,

Of course I realize, that it has been longer than intended since I have last written to you. In that aspect, I assume that upon the arrival of this letter, you will find yourself in a series of bewilderment, whereas, I have only previously written to you when it came to a matter of expense, and for that, I apologize.

When I think upon the past twenty four years, that I have called you "father," I feel great shame in the way I have acted previously. You of all people would know the nature of my being, what I am accustomed to and capable of doing and still do you show such kindness in your heart.

It is true, that when I have been caught in dispute, I have called upon your name, for I have had no other to call "friend". Only now, in this present day, do I write to you this letter. Not with requests, but with the secrets of my heart, things that I have not once spoken of, that only I know.

When my thoughts reflect to the past, I see how many things you did, within your power, to provide for us children, of your generous nature and kindred spirit, in spite of the most things of utmost ignorance, and ingratitude in my heart, you did for me.

I write to you, also, because I have none other to write to. I am alone. The fact of the matter, is I have been alone, longer than I have cared to. People and things of the past, have since held me in abandonment, and all hope has flown from me.

I am not well. Physically speaking, I am fit as a fiddle, though I have not since been tune with life. She has taken all means of enjoyment from my life. There is no light to be found. She has, in a way, corrupted my very means of existence.

Would you not write one letter to me? Has all means of humility escaped your character? Is my suffering, not in the slightest a matter of importance to you?
For God's sake, I admit the deed! I am indeed as you've said previously, an ignoramus! But there is a matter at hand, more crucial than this unnecessary feud!

I do hope, for my sake, that you should find some peace in your heart, before mine ebbs away from me further. It would indeed be a shame, that I should die all too soon. I do not, by any means have the intention on taking my own life, but the issue at hand has since left me broken hearted, and physically ill with shame.

May God have mercy on you, sir.

Your Servant,
H.A Love.

Must I pretend
That I have no will
For such a rhyme to be penned?
What to do? Woe is me!
Shall I torment my thoughts longer,
Or shall I flee?
For what then,
Has life for me, set aside?
What for me, will life provide?
My passion is only found in dreams!
Such a place
To satisfy my means!
And it is by no means
That I should put away these dreams
For what more is life better served
Than dreams?

My dear brother, I should hope
This letter finds you well,
And has not aggravated
Our relationship further.

The dreadful winter
Is here again at last,
And the year is 2020.

Of course I realize
That you have been
Long since dead,

Tho I write this letter
In my own form
To communicate with you.

How I miss things in our own time.
The smell of barley,
Leaves me ill with longing for home.

I should have taken my place
Between you and our parents
Long ago.

Transportation is different
In this age and time.
There are no carriages in sight.

I'm concerned, brother
Of things in this world.
I live in a world full of masquerades.

Letters are a thing of the past,
And the accursed "internet"
Has overruled our old-fashioned ways.
(How I loathe Thomas Edison!)

In short, brother, I am ill.
Not of life,
But without any will to live longer.

We've since reached
Another century,
And yet have had anything to improve.

How many centuries
Must I suffer longer?
How must I part ways with life?

Godspeed, brother.
Until we should meet again.

O Maria,
Through the misted fog
Indeed I come.
Shrouded by the wretched smell
Of twenty shipmates
Lying, dying,
Beating, hating,
Praying it's not too late, Maria!
Tho the eyes of the world
Will not see thine beauty
And a thousand men
Cannot save thine soul
On the waves against the storming tide
Thou will watch as I return!