I Lay Bare My Wounded Heart

There are painful pitfalls to happiness No one, not I, is immune to misery's tragic tune. We cry in the night like a wolf baying at the moon, sullen, soulful songs of heartbreak and despair, drifting upon air. Of those memories; beware. My emotions may seem as dormant as a volcano... Silent but molten, setting fire to my dreams. In ashes they lie, beyond the reach of my heart. I try to write the plight of my life, but the light turns dark, leaving me with tormented thoughts. Expressing the bane of lost love in poetic refrain is a rueful score of what once was but is no more. I've written hundreds of poems of being smitten. Bitten and wounded by Cupid's arrow, was I. How I wish he'd missed his target, and yet, never would I have known love's tender touch or the gentle caresses as he stroked my tresses, nor the taste of his lips sealing love's vow. My muse refuses to let me forget the memories of romance, so bittersweet, so, I continue to write as I stumble, suffering while penning another grief-stricken sonnet, then more, still more, I write in lamenting encore, a sequence of denouements that will tear me apart each time I lay bare my wounded heart. December 7, 2020 Catharsis Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Silent One