Heartbroken, she now forever resigned For alas her sorrow had come to stay No bells were tolling, no telling signs No hooting owl on that bitter cold day, When a fragile heart stopped and the world went grey She walks at night praying to…
“Sadness flies away on the wings of time.”– Jean de La Fontaine Sing to me while the fiddle weeps heartrending
The dark end of the empty street is where her soul longs to reside cloaking her imperfections hiding in the sombre night.
This then is my truest of truths: I miss you in my waking hours when night is gone and morning comes for then there are no magical dreams to which I may once more succumb.
My Beloved Why are these tainted tears familiar Have they been patiently waiting in the cold dark corners
I am left with myths of prowess from an apostle of love