Hanna, My Ophelia

                how many new moons
have passed us over 
since they ceased to pass us in between?
Back when there were still bumpy rides
beneath the twilight, there was also a Dawn;
there was a Birth, and they say that God smiled
for he was pleased.

                but who am I to believe
that we were cast 
into these molds by some otherworldly being?
For if the nature of these outfits is indeed
fallacious at its core, are we not bound, 
in truth, unto these roles by the decrees 
of inherent illegitimacy? 

                for if it is true that love
is star-crossèd and sincere,
then should it not show? And doubt should not
be of such a vileness as to taint the sanctity 
of trust, and hurt be not such a shadow
as to mask the fondest of all of my memories.
And yet it does hide from me.

                I trusted you most sincerely
at the Lakes in those days; 
at the Sunrise and in the depths of frigid winters.
But I am done posing questions. For when the
ripest of new fruits do take to life inside of me,
I am succumbed by rapture - sweet Revelation!
And I am released.

Author's Note

Title is derived from a song of the same name by Justin Vernon. Poem has no semblance.

Reviews

[613]

This is an interesting poem…

I liked it.

- Brittney

[Colin Kingsden]

Thanks, Brittney!

Cheers,
-C. Kingsden

[613]

Sure thing!

If you would be so kind as to check out my completed manuscript, HIM, I'd truly appreciate it. I am planning to have it published but want the kinks fixed first. (Can't move forward without help from others!) Haha.

[SammMG]

Faith certainly is strange. Who really are we to believe that we were placed here? It's a question ringing in a lot of people's heads everyday. Good job, and excellent idea.

[Colin Kingsden]

Thanks, Samm! An interesting question indeed... and unfortunately none of us have the answer to it.

Cheers,
-C. Kingsden