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.