Black wings angled sharp,

With feathers sparkling in the dark.

If I could see Its face

I'd guess there's beauty hiding beneath the mess.

But all I do is feel the pinch

Of a cold breeze, that foul stench

Of all the moments I have lived

And the regrets that came with it,

Of all desires, I have smothered

And all the dreams I never shared.

Because, can’t you see, Sweet Tormentor of my despair?

When I had the time, I did not care.

With parched lips, I look for water,

What I wouldn't give to taste once more

That insipid liquid, devoid of color

That is said to infuse life again.

Once I had dreams and aspirations,

Now all I dream is to take a sip.

“Cruel Angel, offering a placid stare,

Do say I have more time to spare.”

“Reap what you sow,” I hear him speak

While he sharpens his sickle to send me into the abyss.

I guess it is time for the harvest,

As I await Death's final kiss.

I have a garden, a place I belong,

Where the sun rises and never goes home.

Where there’s no cloud hiding the sky

And where My Love turned into a storm his goodbye.

The promise he whispered was caught by the wind

And carried in the distance, across the battlefield.

Despite all of my flowers or how hard I prayed

I couldn’t keep My Love from going away.

If I am never My Love to see,

At least let his promise come back to me...

By now twas the season of the auburn leaves,

When the warm rays of the sun patted my knees

As I sat waiting in my garden to see

If My Love made his way back to me.

Twas then when the Zephyr carrier the word

That My Love’s cold body was deep in the mud.

My tears fell like the leaves from the trees

And I knew by Winter my heart would freeze.

I remember the Spring when we said our goodbyes

For the first time, this Autumn, I learned everything dies...

When his last letter fell in my lap

My eyes saw again the promise we swapped.

“No matter what, my darling, believe

Love stays with us; love never leaves.”

Only now could I read between the lines.

The promise he made was that Love never dies…

Author’s Note: This was inspired by the stories my grandfather used to tell about the time he was fighting in WW2. He had promised a girl from his village to marry her when he came home. Unlike many others, he did come back home, married his girl and eventually got to meet his children and grandchildren. The rhythm and feel of the poem were inspired by all the 70’ war & peace folk songs I used to listen to. This poem also has a melody in my head :) If only I knew how to play.