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Sanama Mar 25
Our bonds were strong, yet different in their ways,
Each path you walked, I followed, lost in haze,
Like a fool who loves what can’t be held or won,
Chasing what was never meant to come.

On a rainy day, I knew what would unfold—
Rejection, cold, a truth I couldn't hold,
Yet in that sorrow, the tears found their grace,
Joining the rain, as it fell on my face.

Vox silens, I whisper in the mist, it was just
A silent voice, a truth that can’t be kissed.
Like the hills of old, with tales untold,
My heart lies buried in the damp, the cold.
A quiet pain of unrequited love, I used a bit of Latin in my poem and a metaphor. I won't say much for finding it on your own is the best way to understand.
Ian Dec 2024
The man of Keos once penned—
Poema pictura loquens,
Pictura poema silens.

Thus, will the quill be my brush;
The page, my canvas;
My words, the sundry hues.
O a picture of mute verse
Will I produce!

— The End —