So near to you and yet so far,
A paradox of truest form.
That fate should strive to ease our pain,
Would be a wish and nothing more.
By day the sun does shine it’s best,
Mocking all I know is true.
It brings no warmth to this poor soul,
Whose only thought is loving you.
At night my heart for you doth cry,
Weeping crimson tears of rage.
For love’s two loves apart must be,
And so my lifeblood doth decay.
Tomorrow’s light relieves my heart,
Promising another day.
But I have travelled far enough,
From the grove where love has lain.
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