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Love Estrange
A distance so close, yet feeling estranged,
Her scent I indulge, though her heart is not mine to embrace,
Her skin, as soft as the gentle sway of a summer's breeze, but her cheek I cannot caress,
Eyes of hazel stare through mine, yet she fails to see my embodiment of passion,
Words I dream she'll whisper become an echo I'll never hear,
Though not in love, love is born,
A fondness that grows like garden ivy;
But of heartfelt desires, she is not fond
(thus, the little I have is not wished to become the little I've lost),
An attempt to atone for unweilding passion, for a tone such as love lies beyond the mode of her love's senses,
Together we've grown apart, though apart we grow together.
The paradoxes of love that you state so intensely, in this poem, are common experiences; yet you raise them, with your verbal skill, into the level of Art. You have spoken for many who cannot express what is in their hearts at this level; and you have spoken for them with great dignity and beauty.
Hi, Adam :) Stick with your music and writing and leave girls and love to fate. :) Longing and love are felt here in your poem.