I wish I could remember the words to another man’s poem.
There’s a mountain of myrrh and the lilies where the fawns roam.
But when I feel it most
That old poem is just a ghost of my love for you.
A wise king loved a woman when the world was younger.
But he only gave her some of his heart so he fell to the hunger.
I can only speculate
That great king met his bitter fate because he didn’t have you.
But I do.
Maybe I’m over my head.
My little well of wisdom is not so deep.
But the king didn’t mean what he said.
His words were fine but his talk was cheap.
“Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof.”
It’s true of everything in the world and it’s true of love.
I’ll say it with my dying breath;
The only thing strong as death is my love for you.
My love for you.
Copyright Harry Lang, 2014