This is a curse on the heartbreakers
that left us stranded in the island of
Hope-and-Love, paddling away,
unnoticed, in the dead of night, on
the only boat we sailed to the
mystery-filled lands
This is an apology to the hearts we've
broken in our self deluded attempt at
avoiding heartache by fading
gradually away like the sun when it
sets beyond the horizon lines
This is a thank-you note to Time, for
the penniless healing it affords, and
the scholarly teachings it imprints--
never once failing us since we began
to exist, and
This is a lamentation for scattered
scars, for dispersed pain, for
heartbroken hearts, for dead or dying
dreams-- we are like souls living on
a battlefield strewn with mines
...
This is a goodnight song of hope to
carry us to tomorrow,
This is ink for our pens
...
This is for me, and
This is for you