I wake and prowl the house at night
And wander through the gloom,
The only light that streams are beams
Of silver from the Moon,
While every room is silent
And the passageways are dark,
There’s just one sound, the beating of
My misbegotten heart.
But no-one else is stirring
And the atmosphere is thick,
With dreams and ancient memories
From some old sailing ship,
They rise up from the midden of
A thousand journeys sailed,
That came to grief on some dread reef
As each one said, ‘You failed!’
And long-lost faces turn away
Before they’ll meet my stare,
I try to capture them again
And say, ‘I know you’re there!’
They shake their heads in silence and
Then drift into the night,
‘I know that I was wrong,’ I call,
They whisper back: ‘You’re right!’
So on then through the early hours
My vigil seeks the past,
Re-visiting each love I lost
As if it were the last,
And tears stream like some sad dream
Repeating: ‘Well, you know
Just why I turned away from you,
I really had to go.’
The years have mounted up, and now
Lie on me like a tomb,
Reflected in the silence of
This darkened, empty room,
And just as dawn is breaking I
Cry out, ‘I cared, you know!’
My voice, it echoes in the gloom,
‘Why do you hate me so?’
David Lewis Paget