gkpoetry

He unburdened himself in the dark of his room,
The mirror vaguely reflecting his gloom.
Never again a passionate love
To brighten his heart as if buoyed above
The albatross weight of his leaden ache.
Save that, no drink his thirst could slake.

He wondered if he’d staged it this way,
Angered coldness blocking her way.
Why had he shunned her in aftermath’s glow,
Vital this turn, what seeds did he sow?
Why did he turn from her away,
When warmth was ripe to salvage the play?

An author who’d never grasped his plot,
What matters and what matters not.