For love was the only thing the man kept safe,
His woebegone eyes,
Screaming out her name,
Terrified of aching,
His heart came to break,
He missed her exquisiteness,
And comely face.

He started to brood,
Over her cynosure ways,
She wasn't a dalliance,
She was more of a demure ebullience,
Her eloquence and devotion,
Her passion and her motion,
That lilt in her voice,
For love was mellifluous.

The man couldn't live,
He was drowning with lassitude,
The feeling he felt,
Were truly ineffable,
But now she was gone,
He's been cognizant to long,
He strode back to bucolic,
In his bungalow home.

And there she was,
Her grave and soul,
Buried deep inside,
This once halcyon whole,
For love is everything,
Please come back home.