Daisy's Lament

There is a dream sleeping
somewhere in the depths
of an ever blue ocean.
I believe it belongs to Gatsby.

It will never again see the surface.
It was his precious dream.
James Gatz.
The Jay Gatsby.

During the time
when he was still alive,
he loved a woman.
It was me. Daisy B.

He loved me the way
all girls desired to be loved,
like the Shepherd so loved
the Nymph who didn’t love him.

I was his Nymph.
Beautiful and carefree,
but he could not have me.
Would never have me.
I’m sure we were, by fate
of the cruel Stars, meant to be
together. Yet our love, from
the start, was a tragedy.

It was for one of us, who
would meet an abrupt end.
Gatsby’s love nor wealth
Could buy back my love or our time.

I, his Nymph, spurned he,
the Shepherd, for a Duke’s son.
I desired wealth and status, even
at the cost of my own happiness.

But the man I married
could not love me.
Would never love me
like Gatsby always did.

In our forgotten youth,
Our love was so wild.
We were crazy for one another.
I was crazy for him.

But he could not
give me the comfort
of life so desired by
a woman of status.

I could no longer love him,
of that I am certain, but
I knew he still loved me
despite my betrayal.

I know he still loves me,
even in death. What man
would not give his own life
for the woman he loved?

I didn’t deserve his love
or his admiration. On the day
of his death, I fled far away
and continue to live on.

I could not, however, escape
the disapproving eyes of
Dr. T.J. Ekcleburg, who
looked down upon the Valley.

He knew my secret, my evil.
And although I had left East Egg,
many a years ago, my heinous
crime continued to follow me.

As did my guilt
over Gatsby’s early demise.
His blood as well as Myrtle’s
stained my hands permanently.

No matter how times I washed
and scrubbed till my skin
became raw and irritated,
their blood was always there.

I could not find comfort
in the arms of an unfaithful
and heartless husband, nor
in the innocence of my child.

At various intervals in time,
I thought about returning to
East Egg. I wanted to be
forgiven for my sins.

I returned twenty-one years later,
to the grave of the man I loved,
weeping and sobbing
with agony pinned to my heart.

Unfortunately,
it is too late.
He cannot sooth me
nor offer me his embrace.

Although he loved me
in this current life; he
cannot carry his love for me
into his next life.

The suffering I caused,
has come with dire consequence.
He no longer loves me even
though I now love him.

The green light on my pier
flickers across the bay. It
burns brightly before
shattering into many pieces.

Forever gone.
Much like his love for me.