It Is Too Late ...

by compound complex 11 Replies latest watchtower bible

  • compound complex
    compound complex

    Grass is growing, rivers are flowing. Everyone goes on as if nothing happened. Of what possible importance can anything else be since I don't have you?

    I try to fill my days with anything meaningful, however small, however tiresome. The routine activities, of course, are chores and obligations I can't let go for too long. But meaningful? No objective, detached person needs to convince me that taking up a worthy cause will put my churning thoughts off myself and onto the welfare of others (whose suffering is likely greater than my own. Yes, I know). Please don't patronize me, my ever-niggling inner voice, with high-sounding but hollow, worthless platitudes. I have no difficulty sorting out the whys and wherefores in my mind. It's the heart, ripped bleeding from my chest, that cannot fathom why you, my beloved, have been torn away from me so prematurely. Whether sooner, whether later, never could there be a right time to say goodbye.

    That's the bitter irony: though too much time had passed, I set my heart toward you and home. I rehearsed my words, my sorrowful apology, my plea that we might make a fresh start. Certainly, by virtue of your kindly nature, you would not have hesitated to say, "Yes, my love, all is forgiven." If certain of nothing else in this miserable life that I claim as my own, I could be absolutely sure of that, your seeing the best in me.

    It is too late. I was wrong - not about your sweet and forgiving nature - but that you would gently reassure me all would be right again in this, our little world. Now, in your silent presence, I stare downward toward a cold and grave you. Please accept my tears and these yellow roses ... I know how you always sighed with such ineffable joy every time I brought you your favorites.

    I promise to return again and again ... to place more yellow roses upon this, your eternal bed.

    Until such time as I should join you....

  • Satanus

    Uhoh. I know about what you are talking.


  • AllTimeJeff

    This prose would be a dream come true at a differerent time in my life.

  • yadda yadda 2
    yadda yadda 2

    Agonisingly evocative, beautifully poetic. Stirred many emotions. I hope this pain is not real for you.

  • compound complex
    compound complex

    Thank you, Satanus, Jeffers and Yadda:

    Your thoughts are appreciated. I am now detached from the reality of that, my personal experience of many years ago. The death was metaphoric, the yellow roses real ...

    Grateful for your kind words,


  • darkl1ght3r

    Beautifully evocative writing. You have a real talent. You really make us feel what you're feeling.

  • cantleave

    Lovely piece of evocative writing. I'm sure many of us could relate to the sentiments you described.

  • White Dove
    White Dove

    I think this is from a different story. I could be wrong. Coco was talking about another story and quoting it on a different thread. If I liked this kind of writing, I'd really like that passage.

  • Butterflyleia85

    wow that is beautiful but sad... you are the poet.

  • compound complex
    compound complex

    Dear Darklight, Cantleave, White Dove and Butterfly:

    Your comments mean a great deal to me.

    This is derived from a letter [the original thread is entitled "The Letter."] Frederick (me) wrote Sarah (wife) about missing her so. It was edited and modernized, leaving out names so that the reader could supply his or her own. These sad experiences have passed, and I now draw upon them objectively, it is hoped. Of course, I can appreciate that not all tune in to this style of writing or its content. My life experience has dealt primarily with the nuances of human emotions, impressions cast by light and shadow upon the waiting pages of the writer's manuscript - mine.

    Thanks so much for responding.


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