Quietly our hearts cry behind closed and bolted doors when love departs,

while the tears that sting so deeply cascade down inside our very souls.

Oh that we could mop dry the floods that drown our hope and trust,
and thus squeeze the angst away to drain into the far distant seas
where they might sink into the darkest depths, ne'er to be seen again.
How many such floods have run into the seas since mankind was first

betrayed by fickle lovers?

 

Should those with restless feet be forever marked with bold signs to

forewarn those upon whom they would prey in careless abandon of all

dutiful care, running as they do on lustful energies alone.

 

Such reservoirs of tears are salty as are other seas and fit for naught but

sharks to patrol, wherein we might cast off our broken hearts that they

might sink like the stones they have become, attracting one last predator

before they hit bottom as their owners have before them.

 

But where to find the sea of hope to trawl for new hearts of hope and

warmth, without which the bolted doors will rust into unmoveable barriers

to all future ventures,  unto pastures new where restoration may come to all who

can be so bold as to tread?  Where is the lighthouse of brilliant truth to

guide the worthy folk where to place their nets in sureness of a fair catch.

Such maps as I have seen omit such guidance, as do the navigation systems

sold for the mundane needs of life - shame on the makers for such lack of

 support for so many lonely souls, and much praise for the one that may

some day divine the locations so many still seek.......

 

©Rhumour
May 13th 2010