The Price Of Failure

THE PRICE OF FAILURE



My fair Annette had held my heart

Within her gentle caring arms,

Her smile, her warmth were all a part

Of selfless, sweet and loving charms.



“A paragon,” my father said,

“hold on to her, she’ll make you whole.”

And this was doubt cast in my head,

was healing me a partner’s role?



I’d never met my father’s dreams.

A quiet child with no great drive

No high achievements, useful schemes

Content with what I could contrive.



“I love you, Dan, don’t force me out.”

“There’s nothing left for us,” I said.

Her tear-drenched eyes gave me no doubt,

Of fear and sorrow, pain and dread.



I let her go—she walked away.

The pain grew tight around my soul.

Where were the words I had to say?

Where was the love to keep us whole?



I wrote the letter many times,

To make an effort, write a speech.

To make amends for all my crimes,

To find a way to heal the breach.



That letter never left my hand.

I could not find the words to start.

Without success, they turned to sand.

My weakness blew my world apart.



The message came, Annette had died.

‘She killed herself for love,’ they said.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,

Escape the turmoil in my head.



The pain of failure, pain of loss,

Drove into me, a sharpened knife.

I crumbled into worthless dross,

My futile, useless, foolish life.



When comes the time when I must wait

in judgement for my deeds and shame

Will Annette stand to ease my fate?

Or send me to eternal flame?