The aching

There is an odd aching
Deep in my heart
Even when I gaze
Upon the smiling
Countenance of the
Sweet of my eyes and my heart

With every mine heave
And every mine forward motion
I wipe mine brow
Gleam of the sun reflected
Off my teeth

Mine thoughts wonder
The accomplishments and acclaims
The faults and failures
I yearn for this foreign
Sense of satiation and satisfaction

Mine thoughts wonder
Am I not to reap my own harvest
To sigh to my heart's content
Yet I dare not speak of
My success

Because mine sweetheart
Whilst she heaves and advances
She goes down a road
Unchosen by her heart

Even as time
Flows unforgiving
Even as time
Ticks away without
Ever glancing back

Even as time
Attempts to work its magic
Of healing broken hearts

This odd aching
Remains.