First Love and the Last

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As we grow with the passage of time,
We tend to lose our first love that shone
Courageously by the newly-born stars
And fell through misfortune, into the underworld.
But it lives with some as they gather the first portraits
Of hers and recall moments when they were by the ruling river;
The best lovers who concluded their story as rivals-
Consummated by an unpredictable
Wind on his dry shore. Never

Has he missed the birth of dawns;
Whether by a treacherous heartbeat
Or worn blinks.
That is she may be there, stunning the shrinking sun
And watching over him with wide eyes-
An open heart.
Creating days to remember and breath;
Grasp hold of and accompany through death;
Feel the delicate hands of his first beloved and won’t separate
By everything time possessed, but reality.
Those were indeed the days I denounce my youth
In exchange for a final kiss. And wonder:
If I was there beside you,
Or were you the star upon me as I faint.
For I hope you remained as I once you;
My compassionate, marvellous, and worthy beloved.
Weeping her half-remembered name:
O princess, come back.





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