Transience

I see the tears that brim your lustrous eyes.
I hear your heartstrings being strummed upon by the moon’s solemnity.
I savor the aftertaste of dashing hopes that dance on the tip of your tongue.
I feel your bleak hands reach out for me in despair.
And the morose fragrance of bitter anguish fills my insides to an inconceivable extent.

As the earth laps up the sorrow that drips down that shattered face of yours,
I can hardly fathom the treacherous pain that lies beneath your flesh.
For there is nothing a promise can assure in times such as these.
And I shall never venture to say a mortal can keep its word.
But you can be certain that I differ from the rest.
Never will you ever regard me as an evanescent lover.