"Aged"
A Villanelle of Regret
As the light of my hope grows dim, I hang my head and weep. And time has become my enemy.
Must I die with my soul unfed? And my desires left so thirsty? As the light of my hope grows dim.
For all that I have yearned, are they truly out of reach? And time has become my enemy.
Or shall I be allowed their pleasure but for a fleeting moment? As the light of my hope grows dim.
Is it better to be teased by my desires, than to have not been pleased at all? And time has become my enemy.
To find them at my fingertips at this late stage, Is but the cruelest joke. As the light of my hope grows dim. And time has become my enemy.
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More stories from Pamela Walsh-Holte and writers in Poets and other communities.
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Comments (2)
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Woah. This was sad and relatable and so full of longing and heart. I love your two repeated lines so much as they give that song like feel that all great villanelles have. Great entry, well done Pamela