in ages past

I’m sorry, dear

so sorry,

for what you’ve lost

for what you’ve seen

for what’s been broken.

Love comes at a cost,

and you have paid too high a price, and, forgetting,

have let hope destroy you

and faith return to dust.

But everlasting to everlasting

was never a promise to last for a day.

There have been dark Fridays and cold Saturdays before,

forlorn gray nights and black dawns.

And perhaps you have forgotten:

Sunday came, even then.

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4 thoughts on “in ages past

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