These things escape me, The woes and ways of happiness; I am lost to their charms, To the agonies of bliss. Through the years I learned not to take The hand of one Whose heart would break Before my own And, in the process, lost A gainful measure of the total cost. For what is made better by a fight unresolved? What is discovered by a puzzle not solved? These thing and more I have paid dearly to know; Perhaps it is time for my knowledge to grow And expand, not external But deep down below To find myself - Am I the person I know? What kind of flower can bloom just in the shade? Is this love dead, Or am I digging it's grave? And do I feel shame, For the time I have spared? Does it feel wasted, All these years that I shared? Too many quandary's, Too much I dont understand - Too many tears, As I let go of your hand. Time breaks all things to dust, Bogs things down with layers of rust; This love was ours, But now the veil is thinning; This is the end, And the beginning.