Seasoned Changes

by retrodiction

What it is, is raw with nerves
Exposed it aches
With yearning
Grows sour hour by hour such power
This feeling —
Unending

Pause.

Stop. Halt. Jerk.
I command!
No, it does not work,
Notwithstanding my demand.

See now, how it affects me.
My bundle of nerves pinned to your sleeves,
Along with you it leaves.
Like leaves, turn yellow while summer leaves.
 
Fall to my death come autumn.
My death, if beautiful or wise,
Found only in the mind of my receiver.
I am parched.
What i would give for my life giver.

Chilled to my bones come winter.
Separated,
No roots no trees.
The bells of heaven, they ring.
I might not live
To see flowers bloom in spring.

But rebirth I must, and
Thaw again.
For in every summer
My bundle of nerves remember
Your sleeves.
 

#No Name

by retrodiction

13th August 2012.

There were no signs of which I could have told.
Your face though new was nothing unfamiliar so.
How quick time had made my heart yours to hold,
But flanked by seas we remain two separate souls.

No thousand years could have made me more bold,
Than when in mine your hands laced, like it was home.
Time, though fleet, seemed more valuable than gold,
Cursed fate would leave me again to roam.

Your smile, time’s fingers would pry from my mind.
Our whispered secrets now no more sacred,
For soon we’ll part and leave this all behind.
Yet be this so, i feel all but hatred.

Your ambiguity can make or break,
But if ’tis a dream, then let me never wake.