Past Love

I know I shouldn’t be writing this, I sense it doing me no good,
I can’t help but fall into the category of men who don’t follow the path they should.

I’ve been harbouring a feeling within, a feeling of insatiable distress,
The choices I’ve made and what they’ve brought me, my life i.e. my mess.

Tried I have endlessly to erase her memories, with my attempts resulting in vain,
Such is the curse of a powerful memory, unimaginable is the pain.

I was reminded a few days ago, when i saw a butterfly’s tattoo on a feminine back,
I relived the perfect month i was blessed with, and now she’s the only perfection i lack.

She had the skin of a silkworm’s final product, and dusky brown was her shade,
She had hair like Bathsheba herself and questions requiring declaration of love I would evade.

We commenced our journey on the road to alliance, and inevitably my gender had me betrayed,
She accepted immediately, and i was blown away by the purity she both breathed and portrayed.

Distance was not known to us, and undesirable quarrel did not feature in our conversation,
I was indebted to the Alpha, for bestowing upon me this astonishing life- altering relation.

I realised I had lived in a vacuum all my life, for the meaning of satisfaction SHE helped me discover,
Had it been devoid of any pleasures of body contact, I would still not hesitate to be her unconditional lover.

Alas, as this agonizing journey has taught us, the best things in life are in fact, never meant to be,
It was required of me to make the sacrifice, as my brother confided his love for her in me.

The purpose of separation was not fulfilled, and two nucleon individuals eventually departed,
The question that pierces through my melancholy depression is, “Would we have finished what we had started?”
_____________________________________________________________________