03 April 2014


By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

Shrouded in the mystery of my mind
A thought creeps: your perfection was a myth –
Unfound in the light of day – more affined
To fairy tales and love stories than with
Reality. I fear you were no more
Than a shadow cast by a flickering
Candle; an ecstasy left unexplored;
Only a mirage – faint and shimmering.
But, my affection has always remained
Pure; a devotion honest and unfeigned.
Cursed with a memory I can't restrain,
My heart lives a hostage, broken and chained.
   I am doomed to brood over what is lost;
   Enduring each day haunted by your ghost.

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