| General Poetry
posted May 7, 2018
A love long lost
As the angel in white walks down the aisle,
your hair feathered up in a divine veil,
my thoughts I soon must defile,
and past sins destroyed like fiery hail.
Should oneself be condemned for falling in love?
For placing her on a pedestal high?
But the answers are cries of mourning doves,
and memories which I should never pry.
Alas, we were never meant to be.
The betrothed now belongs to another.
Such savage humor, such cruel irony,
that my true love is now with my brother.
Though the bride stands white, in black I will mourn.
A love not to be and now faced with scorn.
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