Lost Love

Within the kingdom of the heart
impaled by golden symmetry,
emotive tidal forces start
to drag away my soul.

Enraptured by a vain ideal
the hunted now the predator.
Inside the crystal spires I feel
a vacuum slowly stir.

A feeling mourned is resurrect,
an orphan Lazarus now grows
and ignorance leaps to protect
the weakening repose.

Like lightning, God behind a glass.
A vision held inanimate.
An instant glimpse of what will pass
and what will never be.

Too conscious as the light grows dim
around the forlorn fantasy,
as castle owning seraphim
so gently fade away.

Monotony appears once more,
and rocks of idle chatter curled,
appear around the distant door
that opens to the world.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.