poem

The Unrequited
by kaye

still life, 
unturned

like browned pages

which frayed over time.

every grain 

of sand counted,

every faint movement

mattered,

but things remain

unchanged.
chasing shadows
which cannot be
caught,
imprisoned by time
and walled.
what shall i say

to calm the

beating of the heart?

shall i tear apart

the only hope

 it knows?

to sever ties

and birth angst-

is it less cruel?

than to sustain

a dream that

begets torment

and sorrow?
but let it be
granted a
gentle death,
a ceasing
from all hope...
lest time
stand still
altogether.
here am i

left wondering 

the fate of 

the unrequited.