When yonder moonlight deepens,
and dark seems the gloom,
I sit amidst my solitude,
and think of you, again,
of how, the sunshine,
dappled your brow,
your fiery eyes, bright with life,
the ready smile,
upon your lips,
and your laughter, sweet music,
of a hundred tinkling bells,

I think of the times’,
when we walked, hand in hand,
through beaten forest trails,
and lay in the glade, beside the brook,
and the sun wove a carpet,
of green and gold and red,
and as the night came on,
we waited for the first star to shine,
and walked back to our hearth,
with a thousand fires above,

I had you, and you had me,
and we had naught else,
but how full was our life,
every moment a joy,
I remember our first born,
the first fruit of our innocence,
and all that we were,
was born into our child

I remember then,
the rumble of guns,
and planes flying above,
that rained fire, around,
and brought our homes to dust,
the rumbling caravans of tanks’,
and guns spewing lead,
all the streets around,
were tinged with varied hues,
of grief, terror and blood,
the burning buildings,
the pitted roads,
and billowing smoke that greyed the sky,
seemed to cast,
upon our town,
a certain shroud of death;
when food became scarce,
and riots common,
and men lurked in shadows,
to ****** their hands,
on some passing miseried soul,
each striving to stay alive,
hungry stomachs, and crazed minds,
imposing the laws of the wild;

what became of you, I know not,
that day you left our house,
was it a knife, or a piece of lead,
or was it misery’s toll,
maybe, I shall never know,
but I write this to you, in hope,
that sometime, somewhere,
in some further land,
we shall meet again,
where no war exists, nor strife,
nor misery’s plague,
and we shall dwell as before,
two souls, in innocence,
under the starlit sky.