Love … the focus of our hearts
the reason for our being
the joy in our day
a look or a gentle touch
Or the pain in our heart
so broken when love is lost
Philosophy and reason
neither can heal the pain
only time slows the hurt
but that small place in our heart
will always hurt
it will feel the love of the people we have lost
forever broken hearted
the more we loved
the more we hurt
the longer it takes to mend.
Hope was but a timid friend,
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.
She was cruel in her fear;
Through the bars, one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there,
And she turned her face away!
Like a false guard, false watching keeping,
Still in strife, she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping;
If I listened, she would cease.
False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground,
Even Sorrow saw, repenting,
Those sad relics scattered round;
Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven,
Went, and never returned again.