Weak

 

 

Moments in time, when your hand I figured

Would hold mine someday, if fate hath favored,

Were today jolted from their reckless abandon,

And dreams now seem to be more in wanton.

 

As I saw the sight that much to my surprise

Did not only blind; from hurt, from despise,

But hurt was the heart, and jaded the spark,

For how does one see when the world turns dark?

 

I ask not for much, but your hand in mine,

But forgot the suitors that have raced me to the line,

This moment has simply passed me by, still

I stand bereft here, of strength, of will.

 

…