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All the love
that waned,
and vanished
into dark caves
of broken hearts,

Sleepless nights,
and restless minds,
slipping into
dreaded dwellings,
out of despair.

Fear of love's torment
teased the soul,
and exposed emotional
weakness and being,
preventing its happiness.

All the nurturing
which flourished
into a deserted garden,
A futile sense of loss
grew within you
to replace sterile
seeds of love.

Your empty shells
still cling to a deserted
garden,
fear of dust
overcome by madness
and hope lingers on.

You see yourself far away,
and all the hearts
which shrieked
to sheltered breezes,
all the voices
which uttered love
softly,
short of breath,
as if it were
the last time
love would cruelly
overcome true emotion.

All the pages
etched with a golden pen
and forseen with
inevitable destiny
All the croissages
the maids of honor
the vows
the holly grounds
the flower arrangements
the best men
and the limousines:
Inspirations of love
and passion
with innocent intention.

All the thoughts from far away
written with dry passion and desire
all in the absence of love.
Words you could no longer utter
nor could you whisper
to yourself,
to no one.
When love was too
good to shun away,
you were not hungry.

That was love's shelter
written in every heart
with a lasting touch,
and abundant ink,
and a ticking clock.

All the love which ignited desire
and hope within your soul,
over and over.

Your wandering mind
Thoughts cannot lay words upon< br> nor could you visualize.

All the love which roamed
like thunder
without a shelter,
the guiding candle
which gave and took
away from itself.

Linger in secret worlds
O words of love
we uttered!
and feelings we expressed.
O souls we have trusted!
take refuge
into our hopeful heart.


Said Zagora, 1997.

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