It has been ages since the laughter died, which was many suns ago,
Soon swept away by fleeting time, like the brief giggle of a rainbow.
My vacant halls now are silent, and the flower garden is overgrown,
Effusing rich and cloying fragrance, lovely nature reclaiming its own.
The tree boughs are overhanging, the bushes begging to be pruned,
Like a piano that once made beautiful music, is begging to be tuned.
The fruit trees so long neglected, has left fruit rotting on the ground,
......
For me the sun has closed her eyes
Never to rise again
Darkness is all that surrounds me now
Darkness and echoes of pain
I'm on a journey to nowhere
The road is narrow and long
Walking alone, I stumble and fall
With echoes of you and our song
......
It is this great absence
that is like a presence, that compels
me to address it without hope
of a reply. It is a room I enter
from which someone has just
gone, the vestibule for the arrival
of one who has not yet come.
I modernise the anachronism
......
(deleted)
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Who loves the winter as you do?
And is fascinated by trees that resist the wind as you do?
And who like you perfects life
With such innocent joy?
God!
If only you were with me now
I have prepared everything
The chestnuts and the fire,
I have pulled back the blinds
And raised my prayer to the gypsy rain
......
It has been ages since the laughter died, which was many suns ago,
Soon swept away by fleeting time, like the brief giggle of a rainbow.
My vacant halls now are silent, and the flower garden is overgrown,
Effusing rich and cloying fragrance, lovely nature reclaiming its own.
The tree boughs are overhanging, the bushes begging to be pruned,
Like a piano that once made beautiful music, is begging to be tuned.
The fruit trees so long neglected, has left fruit rotting on the ground,
......
For me the sun has closed her eyes
Never to rise again
Darkness is all that surrounds me now
Darkness and echoes of pain
I'm on a journey to nowhere
The road is narrow and long
Walking alone, I stumble and fall
With echoes of you and our song
......
(deleted)
Continue reading
It is this great absence
that is like a presence, that compels
me to address it without hope
of a reply. It is a room I enter
from which someone has just
gone, the vestibule for the arrival
of one who has not yet come.
I modernise the anachronism
......
Tis now since I began to die
Four months, yet still I gasping live;
Wrapp'd up in sorrow do I lie,
Hoping, yet doubting a reprieve.
Adam from Paradise expell'd
Just such a wretched being held.
'Tis not thy love I fear to lose,
That will in spite of absence hold;
But 'tis the benefit and use
......