About the Author Timothy John Rabb is a beginning poet. Lost You marks his debut in Nuvein.

               
I suppose I lost the games you played,                                                                           
For as I slowly drifted away,                                                                                               
I cried...
                                            
 You said I was too young to write,                                                    
While I was blinded by the light,                                                                        
                                                      You lied...                                                                                                                  

I lost you, I just tried too hard,            
Laugh at me, my soul is marred,    
Tonight...  

                                          Now you've won this hideous race,                                                                                  
                                       When you gaze into this face, I'll die.


The waves billow, and swell as clouds,
Glare at me, as eyes so cold,
The ocean's tide sweeps over me,
It quenches such a thirsty soul,
But as the salt reaches these lips,
I choke upon its bitter taste,
Hand still to feel a loving touch,
These eyes have seen no distant grace,
As it all remains the same.

The forest's shade keeps me at rest,
Where faith is young and hopes decay,
Till the sun pierces the feeble haze,
My eyes are burnt by one fell gaze,
Then I flee to the hills,
Winds and utter despair,
There the faces of time,
Are yet tired in wear,
Oh, though how the days have changed.
Is there nowhere to go?
As I run to the plains,
Grass so barren and lonely,
Lost all that is sane,

When I look to the skies,
Upon which I depend,
Your heavenly figure,
Quite slowly descends,
Although this may seem strange,
You are all that I am,
As my sadness and sorrow,
Was brought from the damned.