Wanderer

Words run poor on my lips
When I say how much I love you dear
Fair Lady you place is in the velvet roses
But why not in the madness of my heart?

“Love doesn’t last to those born lonely” said Fair Lady to me,
And I cried to the utmost
Where not even angels could share my tears!

The words of disbelief I heard from the Lady I loved,
Forgive you I said to her, blessed her spirit and walked away
I then turned to her and said in simple voice,
She mistook a relief!

Tears have become so cheap, they fall without a sense,
Heart has become so useless, it beats to anyone it sees
Forgive me Fair Lady for I’m a born poor and a lonely soul
That wanders around to find someone to walk with!

I then bid her a bye…nay, I walked away
To the place where solitude never leaves, and happiness never exists,
To the slums of poverty
Where loneliness clings…to the place where I could relate…

Oh! What sorrow it had been…
I still remember now…
But alas she never understood
I an the thorn that protects the rose!

The last day of one October sun,
I walked to her, bleeding…
Blood all over…

How much I wished to touch her the last time, no one could feel…
And yet I fell on the ground…
My hand asking to hold her hands…
For the next time I’m born, oh! Fair Lady,
I shall not be born lonely.