Poem: What Hath Been Lost

E'ery night as I lay mine head upon
The pillow in hopes of eluding the advent of dawn,
Crystal tears escape mine eyes
And the darkness stifles my silent cries.

The sun's evanescent rays hold no hope
Nor does the morn's birdsong bring surcease to cope
With the pain exacted upon mine heavy heart,
The pain which infects deeper and yet deeper still, like a poisoned dart.

Day after perverse day am I forced to gaze upon mine own
Withering reflection, that which once was full and proud, now brittle and wind-blown.
That sickness, pervading virulent through mine veins,
The only sign of mine flood of tears the drying salt stains.

Neither smile nor sun alights upon this wretched face,
Light and air flees from this Stygian, desolate place.
Seek may I for that Balm of Gilead, yet Nature's only ease
The storm clouds overhead and that sinister whispering amongst the trees.

For such a prize as I did once obtain
With such beauty that to look was to be risen after being slain.
No pot of gold nor riches beyond measure,
But the love and adoration of such a creature as to ensure lifelong pleasure.

Such was she that e'en the roses cast their petals down
To form her path ere her heel touched the ground.
The angels above sang her praises whilst the faeries below
Basked in the glow of her radiance, from which the sun's own light seemed to flow.

The winds whispered her very name amongst the trees,
Whilst the ocean creatures echoed her song throughout the seas.
Heaven and Earth alike extolled her very presence
As the stars in the sky mimicked her divine essence.

The light through her eyes swirled with the constellations above,
Angel's eyes she possessed; one look had mine heart stricken with love.
Her voice like the sound of new life emerging in spring,
Her kiss the nectar of the gods, her touch a lift on eagles' wings.

A goddess of unsurpassed splendor, touch so gentle and soft,
Truly the envy of the gods, mine heart she carried aloft.
To unimaginable heights didst we soar, amongst the vastness of heaven we flew,
Using the stars as stepping stones, her hair sparkling with the morn's dew.

She and she alone didst command mine heart, my life, and my love.
She, the angel, the goddess, the gentility of a dove.
She, the envy of mortals and gods alike,
She, the only able to deliver mine heart such a strike.

I once was in the presence of an angel-goddess-divine,
Once was alive, once could call Love's bliss mine.
An angel no longer I see outside my window in the early morn,
No longer vibrant, eager, mine heart stands withered and torn.