I sit quietly trying to focus on my work
Her memories knock gently
Louder they become, stopping my thoughts.
She enters in, and lies on my shoulder first
Then looks at my eyes like she had never seen a man.
Holding my hands until darkness spreads from my pen
The Angel has left me with a bitter sour.
She made love in the meadows
and birthed some heartbreaking songs
Then she left the place without a choice
I wailed and waited
Disguised as friend she approached me many times.
The memories like crumbling palace of the Dream Lord
Held me in prison cell.
Powerless, I watched as she rode away with brand new jewels
with some new Prince from afar.
Hoping Time would heal, and drown all these wounds
I travel on My Lord’s narrow way
Lost Love is a small price to pay.