Written by Ricardo
A woman’s glance is nothing but a burden to bear in life.
But what of the woman closest to my heart,
Whose fluttering lash is reminiscent of a blossoming rose;
Of a butterfly in flight;
Or of the thousand-year breaths sighed
In the heavenly orchestra of the universe.
A woman’s touch is naught but a reminder,
Where dreams can no longer be pursued.
The feigned invincible spirit of man is crushed to dust.
But not from my dear love, whose infant paws
Fill my spirit to bursting every time they caress my own selfish flaws.
The spirit of a woman cannot tame the anger of a man.
And man cannot equally domesticate thy womanly nature.
But what of the Earth-dwelling angel?
Whose spirit can reach through the eyes
And silence my primal rage.
A woman is no cause to lay one’s life down in respect,
Not in honour, in sacrifice, nor in love,
For they may never appreciate such an act.
But not my fair bride, as her beauty would tell,
for whom I would march to the lowest circle of Hell
To lay my life before Lucifer, and be damned if I may.
For my heart and soul were stolen
On the very the day I met you.
No amount of pain, or torture can overcome
the suffering of losing you.
Even in death, I will pray to the Heavens for forgiveness
And perhaps for my greatest sin,
Locked in a loveless box, forever as friends.
Ricardo’s love-struck poetry is certainly an interesting twist on blank verse, and we can’t help but feel sorry for this poor chap, locked in his loveless box in the torturous friend zone. But not all women are so cruel, just as not all men should be tarred with the same paintbrush. We all have a lesson to learn on love – it’s just never that smooth. If you enjoyed Ricardo’s poem, make sure to check out his other fine work, including “Love After Death” and “The Start of Something Beautiful“.
Featured Image CC // Margrit