Sentimental doesn't do it justice,
It lacks the depth of hope unrelenting.
Delusional doesn't account, just this
Doubt for which I'm constantly repenting.
Hope springs eternal, but muddied waters
Are wont to flow from a well nigh to dry.
The flame, of hope, of love, burns far hotter
Though it be quenched by eyes too dry to cry.
Yet in holding on too long, I may lose:
I may not see missed opportunity;
May not catch meaning of your fleeting glance;
Until it's too late, and time seals my fate—
But I'll hope and pray that you may perchance
On rethought, let Cupid's arrow find mate.
Copyright ©️ 2024 H.K. Longmore
Musings of a Kunderian Monster 