Lost love

 

You disappeared out there
somewhere diffusely in the fog,
like some ethereal phantom
vanishing, dissolving in the mists
with nothing left behind
except what could have been,
some bitter disappointments
and a painful mess of memories.
Still you exist
out there somewhere
and waiting only to return
in hopes of my forgetting
all the negative misfortunes
and the inexcusableness of your lacks
of sense, of order and of faithfulness.
But I can not forget.
The memories will haunt me
never leaving me in peace,
while all my comfort is
all that which could have been,
the love that went out like a phantom
and the soul of purity
that never could materialize.

 

© aurelio 2020
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critique and comments welcome.

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Griffonner
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I think that the older you get the more you are inclined to wonder about people who have entered your world and then moved on in theirs. How sad it is that one of those memories is tinged with a breach of trust? (I’m guessing) Life is full of adventures, and the course and outcome of each and every one of them is a mystery – until afterwards, and then after that we analyse them sometimes with wistfulness. Your poem describes this exceedingly well. Thank you for the really good read.

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