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The River And The Sea
#TheUnrequitedLove
Note:- Earlier I couldn't mention the symbolism of my poem. Here, the narrator compares himself/herself to a river. We all know that no matter how much a river flourishes own its own, no matter how sweet its water is, no matter how much it tries, a river loses itself and mixes into the sea in the end, so the poem connects this phenomenon with unrequited love.
I.
The shore seems quiet tonight.
Tonight, there is a lack of the light which the moon emanates.
Tonight all that can be heard is the resonant voice of the thunder.
There is dissonance in the music of the waves.
II.
To form a conclusion is what the wise will do.
The skies above will bring a storm tonight.
Drops of rain shall pour down on the sea.
While the shore shall witness the fury of the sea upon being disturbed by the clouds.
III.
My train of thoughts runs swiftly.
While the rain pours down gently, no one holds it, it is free.
But do you believe? Even though it may seem like a thought of nowhere.
That somewhere, mixed among the bleary sway of the trees, the sigh of the wind and the tears of the rain, is the nimble sobbing voice of the triffling river.
IV.
Yes, the river blears from travelling miles and miles.
Yet in the end, it sheds its tears with the rain.
Now sombre has become its colour.
Now, sombre has become its tenour. Only to lose it all to the sea.
V.
I feel like the river , I must say.
I had a powerful fire of ardent admiration.
But now it has burnt off like ashes in the ashtray.
Just like how the river starts with being mighty on its trail, but ends up with frail currents of water, joining the waves.
VI.
This love has bleared me, but yet still, I am like the river, ready to trade it all to the sea.
For I see, that no one else sees, like how the coloured surface of the ocean on a sunset is your hair.
Like the twinkling pearls on the ocean waves on a starry night; are your astral eyes.
Like the soapy, teasing white foam which appears on the waves, is your gentle raiellery.
The whole of you, is like a mighty tide which sweeps on the shore.
VII.
The river is penchant to join the sea no matter what.
It does not even bother, to what all of it has brought to it.
But like the mighty sea and its beguiling aura when it cares not, what comes its way or join its ways; you did not bother to even notice.
But when you did, your words of rejection were succinct like the sigh of the ocean wind.
VIII.
But I blame you not in any way, my love.
But do see how the river has lost its meaning.
Can you hear it keening over its dead past? The sea may not or choose not to, but every critter of it, knows the unbridled pain of the river and its insatiable urges to join the sea.
@George22
Note:- Earlier I couldn't mention the symbolism of my poem. Here, the narrator compares himself/herself to a river. We all know that no matter how much a river flourishes own its own, no matter how sweet its water is, no matter how much it tries, a river loses itself and mixes into the sea in the end, so the poem connects this phenomenon with unrequited love.
I.
The shore seems quiet tonight.
Tonight, there is a lack of the light which the moon emanates.
Tonight all that can be heard is the resonant voice of the thunder.
There is dissonance in the music of the waves.
II.
To form a conclusion is what the wise will do.
The skies above will bring a storm tonight.
Drops of rain shall pour down on the sea.
While the shore shall witness the fury of the sea upon being disturbed by the clouds.
III.
My train of thoughts runs swiftly.
While the rain pours down gently, no one holds it, it is free.
But do you believe? Even though it may seem like a thought of nowhere.
That somewhere, mixed among the bleary sway of the trees, the sigh of the wind and the tears of the rain, is the nimble sobbing voice of the triffling river.
IV.
Yes, the river blears from travelling miles and miles.
Yet in the end, it sheds its tears with the rain.
Now sombre has become its colour.
Now, sombre has become its tenour. Only to lose it all to the sea.
V.
I feel like the river , I must say.
I had a powerful fire of ardent admiration.
But now it has burnt off like ashes in the ashtray.
Just like how the river starts with being mighty on its trail, but ends up with frail currents of water, joining the waves.
VI.
This love has bleared me, but yet still, I am like the river, ready to trade it all to the sea.
For I see, that no one else sees, like how the coloured surface of the ocean on a sunset is your hair.
Like the twinkling pearls on the ocean waves on a starry night; are your astral eyes.
Like the soapy, teasing white foam which appears on the waves, is your gentle raiellery.
The whole of you, is like a mighty tide which sweeps on the shore.
VII.
The river is penchant to join the sea no matter what.
It does not even bother, to what all of it has brought to it.
But like the mighty sea and its beguiling aura when it cares not, what comes its way or join its ways; you did not bother to even notice.
But when you did, your words of rejection were succinct like the sigh of the ocean wind.
VIII.
But I blame you not in any way, my love.
But do see how the river has lost its meaning.
Can you hear it keening over its dead past? The sea may not or choose not to, but every critter of it, knows the unbridled pain of the river and its insatiable urges to join the sea.
@George22
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