Odysseia

Dear Love,

The rift of Destiny is soon to yawn
And sever us forever like Dusk and Dawn,
Yearning together t’wards a hopeless hope
With t’morrow’s promise as reason to cope;
Though sweet solitude but bitters with age,
I need not pray for this young love’s salvage,
For a deep-rooted rose fears less a storm,
Than the loss of Life’s will it once adorn’d.

Yet, though I ask thee decade’s worth of faith
In protecting our love’s future estate,
I confess that I wish for thy weakness too,
So that thou mayst recall my love’s true virtue,
And in moments of reflective silence
That only serve to lengthen our distance,
May memories of me embitter thee
Into saying, at least once, thou miss’st me.