These Immortal Words
Its late March and spring has wafted in,
and we await a rebirth of that distant love...
we wished had, somehow, blossomed in us to allow
a fiery passion overwhelm us as darkness kicked in.
From that memorable day, our young faces shone:
we foresaw a happy future, if only destiny had been kinder
and granted us that desire before it was gone...
why did we vainly wait for moments so impossible and divine?
Within this diary's small pages, I seal with deep regret
these immortal words that have become us instead...
we who weren't afraid of confessing to whomever read
them and understood the obstacles we had encountered.
It's late evening and raindrops erase the vision that enchanted me,
and easily stirred by a sad emotion I recall our wounded vanity...
we shouldn't have let distance destroy our dream, the dream of being together;
now, all that's left are these immortal words that other lovers should remember.
Written by Andrew Crisci for Constance's contest, " The Diary "
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