You've set a bar that none could reach,
Left me wounds only you could stitch,
I could usually resist torture, but I got this flaming itch,
That I got in your orchard, later dumped in a grimy pitch.

Haunted by memories of the past,
A shadow weeping in the halls,
Floating around the corners,
Reminiscing our sunny, grassy knolls.

Conflicted by a silent raven,
With a song that shakes your core.
There will never be another maven,
That could manage this dusty store.

I wish that I could say that I don't love you,
But that would be a lie.
Hiking down a mountain of needles,
Isn't as easy as pie.

Just know that when I don't say I love you,
I love you.