Embers of the Past

How I envy those who write,
Tales of love and pain,
For I can not remember even if I might,
That feeling that once did came.

Maybe time had numb a heart,
Which had its share of misery,
And once a time when love depart,
Loneliness became its destiny.

Is love like youth that withers away?
Like a flower comes in fall?
Will it bloom again one day?
Or will spring come at all?

This are questions of a man who once was,
Been burnt with passions of the past,
And now just dreams of what came to pass,
A love he thought and did not last.