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.