Uprooted

1.

That I've torn myself
from the bosom of my mother,
from the comfort of her hearth,
from the peace of her scent,
from the joy of her smile,
from the blessing of her touch,
saddens me.
Oceans apart,
I imagine her wither away
under the onslaught of time.
These were the best years of my life
and I've kept all these moments to myself,
to fuel only my self-pitying agony.

2.

That I've separated myself
from my lover's kiss,
from her silken hair,
from her heart-stopping laughter,
from the mysterious dark of her eyes,
from the sanctuary of her palm when I'm tempest,
saddens me.
Emotions apart,
I imagine her in search of a new heart
under the onslaught of melancholy.
These were the best years of my spring
and I kept all these moments to myself
in this island of solitude,
to fuel only my lust for depression.

3.

That I've gone away from the land
that nourished me,
the mother of my mother,
from the green of her promise,
from her seasons of heartbreak,
from her vibrant colors,
from her rivers full of life,
saddens me.
Continents apart
I imagine my land searching for calm
under the onslaught of chaos.
These were the best years of my vigor
and I've kept myself away to a distant shore,
in this land of machinations,
to fuel only this sad thirst
for my own history.