Dark is the soft call of the mourning dove
Upon hearts which have lost desire to trust.
When objects of affection turn to dust.
Pain flows among all expressions of love.
Hard beats the tired heart that cannot dream of
Times anew when love rebounds robust.
Life's colored by our apprehension's lust,
Too weak to impart will and rise above.
Such hearts shall only take their sustenance
From pensively rememb’ring days gone by,
Lost to the present, bound to memories.
Caught up in painful loss from past romance,
Resigned to upon yesterday rely,
Doomed to resent their sword of Damocles.
Author notes
Miltonian – Rhyme scheme: abba abba cde cde. I begin lines 1, 4, 5, 8, 11, and 14 all begin with an accented syllable. Using trochees to reset the meter. The rest of the lines are iambic pentameter.
The Damocles of the anecdote was an excessively flattering courtier in the court of Dionysius II of Syracuse, a fourth century BC tyrant of Syracuse. He exclaimed that, as a great man of power and authority, Dionysius was truly fortunate. Dionysius offered to switch places with him for a day, so he could taste first hand that fortune. In the evening a banquet was held, where Damocles very much enjoyed being waited upon like a king. Only at the end of the meal did he look up and notice a sharpened sword hanging by a single horsehair directly above his head. Immediately, he lost all taste for the fine foods and beautiful boys, and asked leave of the tyrant, saying he no longer wanted to be so fortunate. Dionysius had successfully conveyed a sense of the constant fear in which the great man lives.
I use this as metaphor for pain that comes from remembering tragic, painful lost love whenever new love is attempted.
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