you
once told me that
until we met,
rarely did you
ever recieve

and/or deserve any

form of
unconditional love,
care, or
kindness, while - even
in my chilliest nights -
never did you have
grace enough to

consider returning such
understanding. at least,
not to me. well,
times change...

Finish the music you're playing.
I'll wait.
I'll never get weary
of hearing the melodies
you and your fingers create.

Finish the canvas you're painting.
My heart
fills up with such pride
inside when I see
how much joy you put into your art.

Finish the poem you're writing.
It's time.
I long for a day when
the grey leaves your mind
and you hit on the perfect rhyme.

Finish the book you started.
It's worth
the pain you'll go through
to do what you love
and gift sweet conception with birth.

someone
obviously
considered
it
a
laugh

(meanwhile, on
earth) ... what
do
i do
about it?

Consider that; a life that's dead
   without a voice that's raised in song,
and no sweet chorus in one's head.
   Consider that; a life that's dead;
what would a person do instead?
   No music marching them along?
Consider that; a life that's dead
   without a voice that's raised in song,

Consider this, a life of pain
   and torment, full of ancient grief;
no joyfulness can it attain.
   Consider this, a life of pain,
amounting to a curdled brain
   inside of which there's no relief.
Consider this, a life of pain
   and torment, full of ancient grief.

Consider all: a life so dark
   that even night provides no match,
but hides in search of moon or spark.
   Consider all: a life so dark
the mind grows only cold and stark,
   destruction as its only catch.
Consider all: a life so dark
   that even night provides no match.

Consider what the wisest say
   in terms of lives a person leads;
to tread the path and never stray.
   Consider what the wisest say,
but if you dare to lose your way,
   be careful not to trip in weeds.
Consider what the wisest say
   in terms of lives a person leads.

It's been the longest time, my sweet,
since both the two of us did meet;
it is, I have to say, a treat
to be a part of you again.

And since the moon is getting low,
I guess it's time for me to go -
I'll be back if you want me though,
to be a part of you again.

I fear, my love, I must depart;
I'm thankful for this brand new start,
and (now without a broken heart)
to be a part of you again.

I missed you so when you were gone,
but now it's my turn to go on,
so farewell, dear, until anon;
until we part anew again.

He left her on the lamplit doorstep, smiling,
grateful, finally, for their reconciling.
Then he paused and turned around again,
full of questions he could not contain...

Pardon me for saying, miss;
I only wish once more to kiss
your loving, sacred lips. What bliss
to be a part of you again.