How Could I Leave

How could I leave her

A nomad…she weeps

Without relief

I cannot console, only

Listen to sobs, words

Which rend my far spirit.

It was simpler, long ago…

To her I was strong-

Shouldered action hero

Capable of anything

No feat too fraught, risks

Left me unscathed

She believed whatever

I said…thought I climbed

The stars like staircase to

Hang her moon just so…

And this: “everything will be

Alright”…I was king of Night.

How could I leave her a

Nomad…meandered search for

Home, trustworthy comfort?

In younger days I shored

Up sadness with gifts that

Made her feel pretty…

Truth, she was beautiful

Like Midnight’s sapphire sky

But those who should have

Loved, tossed mud upon, then

Drug her through quagmire.

Presents, to speak what

No one else would tell her…

Designer watch, tradition

Worn as reminder that

Time’s everlasting purity

Would never constrain

Pow’r of our connection…

Perfumes to surround, suffuse

Thoughts with imagination’s

Frangipanni…and bouquets

Of carnations, roses

She could fall into

As though my arms.

How could I leave

Her a nomad…deserted

In wild desert world

Which burned her, skin

To marrow’d soul, arid

Cruelty in summer’s

Madness; frozen tundra of

Endless winter’s isolation, mean

Whispering wind’s frigid breath.

Tonight she weeps river

Ancient as sea myths she’s

Convinced I recited for her

Once upon a time…

Weeps convulsively, pain

And fear dark alley


Pierces my heart to hear

Her plead, “I want to go

Back to Before”

Darling girl…back to before

Death signaled I was due?

Back to when Reality was

Impotent thief…that all

You believed we were

Was infrangible?

Our lives converged for

Mere moments…a few

Letters turning to ash

As they left my hands

Blown on ocean breeze to

Fall at your feet…dead autumn

Leaves; spring’s brief petals

By pewter rain drowned.

How I wish I could reach

Through Veil, grasp you

Close, infinite embrace…I’m

Not, nor was I ever God

Healer, protector you saw

In abandoned child’s

Unchallenged dreams…

Fierce-fanged armor lies in

Rusted pieces on dust-bleak floor.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations,  2020 ~ All rights reserved.


18 thoughts on “How Could I Leave

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