Missing
My longing and my missing you consumes me
with a devastating fire that leaves nothing left
of all I thought that I consisted of
but which, without you, is a barren wilderness
of only scorched and desert earth
completely desolated by that destiny
which seems to never let us have each other
but continues but to separate us
drearily indefinitely
like a storm that never gets blown over
but just keeps on harrowing the land,
the life we had which never was our own.
Our only hope is that which never dies,
the last resort, the fickle hope itself,
which although hopeless never did completely leave
all mankind at a loss
but kept on burning
stubbornly in spite of all
with the minutest flame
but constantly surviving
just to spite the overwhelming destiny
which keeps on claiming us and owning us
but which can never stop us from continuing
to be sustaining in our love and hope
in the belief that it will in the end
prevail, reward us for our patience
and remain our sole defence against our destiny.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2007-01-29 at 09:56
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