Had I wrought

Had I wrought in the cauldron of regret
Forged in the bleak indifference of your heart
That moment that had died but won’t forget
Those subtleties that would pick our world apart.
For what is love that falls and gently flows
To the wizened essence of where it lies,
Silent and ashamed hiding from the blows,
Forlorn beneath the promise where it dies.
Such is life, where each day dwindling down seeks
Out the shadows to where the dulling sky
Recalls each memory, as if to crown
The shabby wastefulness we can’t deny.
In the gathering gloom the darkness creeps,
Proclaims the lovers heart that weeps and weeps.


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