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The Loss I Gained
February 27, 2023
My library holds a special display:
An ivory bookcase for a reader's buffet.
The most important it holds.
My stories it unfolds.
A red book I now view in dismay.
I entrusted it to One Dear.
Each other, we're now nowhere near.
I once told plots
Of which I received thoughts
From a voice I'll forever hear.
It is when we part that I provide
Some pages meant to be archived.
This book of art
Is now ripped apart
Due to One Dear of whom I'm deprived.
The ivory case is now tainted
By the red book's dye it acquainted.
Now all I see
In this quiet study
Is a hole in the book One Dear painted.
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This article has 2 comments.
Exegious_Mulcifer GOLD said...
on May. 9 2023 at 11:50 am
I understand this. I'm so glad I'm not alone. Keep writing Wyndral, your work is beautiful.
I wrote this while thinking about the many people I've met that I thought were close, but ended up moving away. I always wonder if they meant more to me than I did to them. I hope people are careful at who they open up to.