Poetry

The Unnamed

You’re my sun and my stars,
My moon and my heart.

You’re my first and my last,
My very future and my past.

You’re my darkness and my light,
My secret and my pride.

You’re my soul and my heart,
My only flame shining bright.

Rohan's Lament

I’m a flower with broken roots,
with no home here or around.
I have searched, but you were nowhere to be found—
Are you asleep beneath a dark mound?

How do I break this awful spell?
To call you back, to make you remember?
The world turns, turns, but it’s too late;
My youth is already too long gone to care.

I dreamt of castles, of love, of magic, and a man—
of an impossible future
that has already passed once,
Though I can no longer reach or recall it.

And so I wander this earth alone,
a forlorn soul, lost and withdrawn,
from worry, from happiness, from love—
not alive and yet not drowning.

I can see people, and hopes—but none
Call to me now or ever the way you did in my past.

My roots are broken, you see;
no future is ever foretold—
To one whose fate is severed,
for one already lost to the sea.