Remembrance by Mike Williams 02/04/2016 @ 1:52 A.M.

Let not my words wax poetic in the same way of lunacy. 
I walk the spance of moonlight hours and never for poetry. 
'Tis love that I ever pine for that worms now in the grave. 
And all of my wit and expressions could not a moment stave. 

How it comes so tempered and fleeting and goes like a gentle wind. 
And though I with all of my velveted purple prose and my ink and pen. 
I could not capture and pen down a single heartbreak to save. 
Nor can I find the lifted heels so light of many a former day. 

Knowing too well love is a stately star by which I long to stear. 
And I remain lost in the thick and fog and my love is no longer here. 
So I wonder lost from hour to hour in some strange tangent lunacy. 
Caught in the nets and dashed love's rocks and remember through poetry.