You always swore
there was nothing more rare
than a love like ours.
*
But, it wasn’t love
that kept us
from fighting the current.
*
Rarer
than soulmates
was the way we cared
*
about the minutiae
of every moment spent together,
never knowing enough
*
time shared to endure
the loneliness
carved by a void each left.
*
Poets,
we once praised
love for our attachment.
*
Yet, I watched
when love devoured the most
wholesome bonds,
*
leaving only anguish
as a hideous
reminder not to trust.
*
No, the rarest
part of everything,
of us, is inexorable loyalty.
About the Creator
Sam Eliza Green
Writer, wanderer, wild at heart. Sagas, poems, novels. Stay a while. There’s a place for you here.
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The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wiles6 days ago in Fiction
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