Between emptied hands my head hanging low.
Your smile and comfort all I remember.
Held onto memories, don’t want to go.
My very being, dosed out embers.
This love, this feeling, is not a passion.
It’s the warmth of the sun, the rays of light.
All for a brief moment of compassion.
Oh, how my fears brought on this cursed fright.
And although you cast me away like thus,
Discharged for reasons to myself unknown,
There is no anger, no wrath for to sus.
Only this dirge for the light once owned.
These dire straits, cannot make your light shine.
These paths of damnation lead to loosing mine.
Conversations with the Muses 