Love Casts Its Dark Side

[ A poetic study on unrequited love… ]

love
casts
its
dark
side

unto
the
forlorn
and
abandoned

once
innocent
and true

now
desolate
and
forgotten

and
falling
down
down
far
below
the surface
of a crystal blue lake…

landing in a remote desert

sinking into the sand
and drowning in a sea of sorrow

bleeding from a wound that won’t heal

lost in hopeless confusion

like sailing on a dark ocean beneath a stormy sky

or peering through a window into a dark room
or looking out of a window into the cold night
or wondering, just wondering

just wondering and never knowing

forever lost…
as the bright sunny afternoon gives way
to the approaching night…

its shadows cast upon the leaves and grass
that become bitter cold and moist with frozen dew drops…

once
innocent
and true

now
desolate
and forgotten

as
love
casts
its
dark
side

unto
the
forlorn
and
abandoned

© 2006 Carlos Rull

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Carlos Rull

Carlos Rull is a musician living in the San Diego area. His interests include Yoga, Eastern Philosophy, Zen Buddhism, and Gardening. He plays drums, piano, and composes New Age & Ambient music, and his albums are available on iTunes and Amazon.com.

5 thoughts on “Love Casts Its Dark Side

  • Saturday February 18, 2006 at 3:21 am
    Permalink

    Dear Carlos,

    This was just . . . I can’t find the right words. . .beautiful won’t do and neither am I speechless. It’s more like, as I’m reading your poem, I am scratching at a point on the ground. And slowly something emerges from that tiny, shadowy, unknown spot. Suddenly, it all gushes through, dark and lovely. Everything is painted in that quiet shadow. The silence of love that stays silent and unknowing, always just shadows and whispers . . . I really loved this poem of your.

    Best regards,
    Zaya

  • Friday February 17, 2006 at 7:21 pm
    Permalink

    Dear Carlos,

    This was just . . . I can’t find the right words. . .beautiful won’t do and neither am I speechless. It’s more like, as I’m reading your poem, I am scratching at a point on the ground. And slowly something emerges from that tiny, shadowy, unknown spot. Suddenly, it all gushes through, dark and lovely. Everything is painted in that quiet shadow. The silence of love that stays silent and unknowing, always just shadows and whispers . . . I really loved this poem of your.

    Best regards,
    Zaya

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